Hey, we established that Madara loves his hair and Tobirama loves Madara's hair and that the senjus have the custom to shorten the length of their hair in mourning. Imagen Madara needing to shorten his hair for a Mission or for a decoy for bloodline hunters and being upset about it and Tobirama feeling that. And Madara staying upset after, because he's missing his hair and not coming to skirmishes anymore and Tobirama not knowing what happened. And of course trying to find out what is wrong. And then Madara comes to the Battles again, but his hair is still short and Tobirama is still thinking on why. Maybe one of the new chicks of his beloved hawks died? And he is even more trying to get Izuna to spill, especially now that Madara has an even better view of Tobirama and Izuna and his Chakra is widely despairing over deadly pretty Tobirama and danger for Izuna. Maybe Tobirama even deplois Izuna and sends covert presents to cheer Madara up? A prisoner scroll with the latest band of bloodline thieves who came to far into the uchiha territory, a Voodoo Doll of Hashirama that regrows with a Seal and stored Mokuton chakra, just things he can burn to find an outlet for all the Feelings. And the Uchiha think Tobirama is threatening Izuna with all of that, because Tobirama can't actually just go up to Madara and give him a hug to make things better. And then Madara's hair grows out again, halfway to it's former length and he has to cut them again for a Mission (Bodyguard Mission and civilian sensibilities/enemies that use your own hair in a wicked jutsu to strangle you) and Tobirama just can't decide what to do with that anymore, as it just keeps happening and Madara's hair stays short for far too long. Clearly he either mourns every causality of their stupid war and has no way to let the elders see sense and accept a peace offer from the senjus, or he lost everything dear to him and figured he has nothing to lose anymore. Which would make No sense, as Izuna is still alive at that point.
Tobirama will never forget the first time his hair was cut, when his mother- still weak from her latest illness- took a careful knife to his hair and cut it off at the length of his chin; eyeing the severed white strands with clear sadness and binding them together with rosemary in a white silk tie before setting it on the silver tray next to his father’s dark hair and Hashirama’s lighter hair along with one braided lock of her own silver hair (she wasn’t Senju, she didn’t have to cut all her hair in mourning and never would with how much the braids meant to her as a Hatake). Father had been displeased that Tobirama’s hair hadn’t been cut shorter like Hashirama’s and Itama’s, but he knew better than to argue with mother and Tobirama’s hair was wild enough that it stuck up in all directions and looked shorter than it was anyway, so he had said nothing. It hadn’t mattered to Tobirama much at the time, not when he was still reeling form the pain of losing Kawarama so soon and so quickly to the Uchiha squad – and then he was just trying to get through the funeral and help his brothers and sick mother and there wasn’t any energy to care (Tobirama didn’t know then why his chest ached so much when Father proudly announced that the attack on the Uchiha had killed one of Tajima’s young sons as well as the lady of the clan, all he knew was that that little boy had had brothers and if Tobirama cut off a small lock of white to burn late that night for those other brothers no one had to know).
His hair grew back slowly but mother put Hatake braids in it anyway and it was nearly as long as his shoulders when he ran to her after Father tried to order Itama out on a mission; he watched as she set her jaw and ripped herself from the bed she hadn’t left in a month, braiding her hair and dressing her best before she went to confront Butsuma. She prevailed (of course she did, she was the Wild Queen) and Tobirama’s hair grew for a year with Hashirama’s until – no one wanted to tell them why mother died, no one wanted to say anything other than that she had just finally succumbed to her illness; Tobirama never told anyone that he knew better, that he had felt the sister growing in mother with the Mokuton, that is knew it was the pregnancy that killed her (that he wondered if Father hadn’t intended it that way after how hard the other pregnancies had been, especially Itama and Hashirama). This time he cut his own hair off at his chin again, binding it with rosemary and white silk and one braid as long as he could do; Father didn’t seem to care either way anyway. (Late that night Tobirama pulled out mother’s token from the small silk pouch he carried it in with his other family Tokens and stared at it until late into the night, making a promise he could never keep.)
It was hardly any time at all after that that Father went back on his word to mother and sent Itama out when Tobirama was too hurt to go with him and Hashirama was on a mission and – blood and anger and being given the moniker that followed him his whole life. This time Father cut his hair, chopping it off too short and uneven with an angry sneer on his lips as white strands fell around Tobirama’s shaking, blood soaked form. Father said many things that day, words of anger that Itama had died, that Tobirama hadn’t done more, that his sons were so weak; but none struck as hard the bitter, cutting order that Tobirama was never to grow his hair out, he had nothing left to mourn for and he would never need to give anyone a Token given his purpose was to keep his last brother safe, that his shorn locks would be his reminder of his failure and purpose and the fact that no one else would ever love him. (So, not getting a courting fan was no surprise after that.)
Numb and broken Tobirama did as he was told and kept his hair short and badly cut (and if he slipped Father’s Token out of the pouch he kept on himslef and tucked it away in the small family shrine in his room no one had to know. Besides, the other Tokens all ended up tucked away in the shrine later after the first mission when he was stripped and lost everything to enemy nin – including Hashirama’s child Token though he was able to get his little brothers and mothers back). Hashirama – at first Hashirama kept his hair short too and Tobirama felt like maybe his brother was with him and they both understood, even if Hashirama’s cut was just awful on him; but it didn’t last, no, not when – when Madara happened. Tobirama knew he shouldn’t have delved so deep in the soulgaze with his brother’s new friend, but he also knew that it was an Uchiha, and he was just so worried! Only, it was a mistake and he played himslef because what he found in the heart of his brother’s Uchiha friend was something he could never quite look away from and losing his heart was something he never did recover from (in part because even as he faced the Uchiha over the river- only after he felt the Uchiha be followed- and his eyes drifted back to the Uchiha heir he could she the messily cut short hair and devotion to family and it felt – well it felt like Madara might be able to understand).
Everything changed after the river. Tobirama felt like his entire world had shifted to accommodate a new star and he couldn’t even talk to his brother about it, not when Hashirama was so angry with him and Father was separating them anyway; sending Tobirama on more and more bloody and dark missions alone, turning ever more into the Demon that Uchiha had once named him in preparation to be his clan’s chained attack dog and keeping Hashirama closer and ever more under his thumb. It wasn’t until Butsuma died that the last two brothers could really spend any time together and as they stood over their Father’s grave (no cut locks for him from them in the small pile from the clan that Butsuma had been close to, no white- not that Tobirama had hair to cut- and Hashirama’s hair a fall of uninterrupted brown), and Tobirama’s face was frozen in implacable cold as he stood awkwardly far from his last brother, no longer knowing how to speak to the brother he hadn’t had much interaction with in years.
The last shovel of dirt landed on the pile and Tobirama stared down at the dirt, wondering if anything would change now that both Hashirama and Madara were leading their clans. He doubted it, Tobirama had kept his eye on Madara over the years- how could he not?- and been relived (and entranced) at the ever lengthening cloud of inky hair (at least he wasn’t being overly grieved anymore), but he didn’t think that Madara would be that receptive to Hashirama’s overtures with the Senju and Uchiha currently at unequal status and Hashirama’s…lack of diplomacy. Madara had chosen his clan and family once and Tobirama didn’t see that changing unless a way could be found to ensure that the Uchiha were untouched by peace and not at risk of loosing anything; something even Tobirama’s mind couldn’t sort out no matter how long he had thought about it. The deadlock wouldn’t break so easily, not yet.
A few years hadn’t changed anything except the length of Madara’s hair and Tobirama’s ever growing obsession with it (it had nearly gotten him killed once when he got distracted by Madara’s hair fluttering in the wind, Touka had yet to let him live that down) – so perhaps it was understandable that when Tobirama felt Madara’s chakra spike with upset he started worrying and spreading his chakra over Fire and the regions around them. The albino’s jaw got tight when he felt a few young Uchiha embers moving at speed out of Fire in the opposite direction of the Senju, Madara’s chakra churning in the Uchiha compound before he took off after the bloodline thieves. There – there was nothing Tobirama could do about this right now, Madara was closer and more than skilled enough to bring back his clansmen, no matter how upset he was about it; besides it wasn’t his place to interfere anyway, his meddling wouldn’t be welcome no matter how much Tobirama wanted to make Madara feel better. It made him restless, especially since even after Madara recovered his stolen clansmen (all of whom felt mostly safe and whole) and yet his sadness didn’t abate and he didn’t appear in the next few skirmishes (which was fine, Hashirama took the time to take some longer missions in crop restoration and that was good for the clan coffers – not that that helped them even the power imbalance in the clans).
By the time a big skirmish broke out that Madara and Hashirama couldn’t ignore and leave to their brothers Tobirama was nearly clawing out of his skin, throwing on his armor and racing to the battlefield ahead of his clan (which…probably didn’t help with his reputation, but, fuck it). It was as he burst out of the trees in a wave of water he used as cover to zone in on Madara’s position and – his heart leapt into his throat as his eyes landed on the Uchiha clan head. Madara – Madara’s hair. Tobirama felt rather absurdly like he had been gutted as he took in the clan head; Madara’s lovely, wonderful, luxurious, perfect, so soft looking, Tobirama’s favorite thing, hair was short.It had been shorn close to the length Tobirama had worn as a child, about the same length as the heavy fringe that covered his right eye and – look, it wasn’t like it was a bad look on him, actually it was quite attractive and set off the line of his shoulders and neck handsomely as well as framing his narrow jaw attractively, but….if his hair was short, and he had been upset for so long… instinctively Tobirama searched for Izuna and found him, looking sullen and sassy as Touka squared off with him (she had been doing so more and more often as Tobirama led the skirmishes so he could cover the weak spots on the field with Hashirama gone).
Tobirama lunged to block Madara from moving on any of the Senju, summoning a blade of ice and water to take the blow rather than his sword (which would not be able to take the full force of Madara’s strength he was sure), letting the construct disintegrate in his hand under the force of the gunbai and catching the leftover momentum in his hand, ignoring the deep gash that opened under the edge of the war fan (and unaware of the way Madara was gapping at him, too focused on the newly short hair to notice where the Sharingan were focused). Swiftly Tobirama wound his chakra through his own blood and formed a twisting, serrated ulak knife; catching the gunbai by hooking the blade around the edge of the fan and using every bit of strength he had to throw the heavy heirloom away from him and using the momentum to twist into a spin kick at the Uchiha’s chest. It missed but Tobirama had never expected it to hit, and it gave him space to think as Hashirama was nearly there and he could focus on figuring out the hair thing.
If Izuna was fine – and Hikaku, and all the other Uchiha that Tobirama expected to see and knew were close to Madara so what-? What could he be mourning so deeply? And how did Tobirama fix it to see that wonderful cloud of hair again? Had one of his hawks died? A chick? Tobirama knew how he loved those birds and doted on them and he could guess why. Ok, ok, Tobirama unleashed another water dragon on the battle to push Madara back (missing the fascinated and confused stare fixed on his face and blood knife) and- reluctantly- fell back as Hashirama burst through the trees to spar with his friend (Tobirama knew his place wasn’t anywhere near Madara); so, no way to ask Madara what was going on, he would have to do something about Izuna and try to interrogate him, Touka wouldn’t be pleased but she should get it. Mind made up Tobirama seared chakra through his hand to heal the cut and let the blood ulak fall away, pausing to slap away a few Uchiha from downed kin on his way to Izuna and a little distracted with the suddenly rising despair in Madara; what was going on?! How did Tobirama stop it and make Madara happy again? This was so distressing.
Teeth bared in a feral expression far more like his mother than his normal stoicism Tobirama slammed into Izuna with all the force of a tsunami, surprising even Touka as her opponent was thrown several yards across the battle and her cousin blazed bast, looking more like his mother than he had any right to. Izuna was swearing when Tobirama caught him, catching the strike of Tobirama’s blade and staggering back slightly as Tobirama used every inch of height he had to go for the scruff of Izuna’s neck with his free hand, claws of blood curling around Izuna’s throat as the albino snarled at him (….he might have been spending too much time with his summons…). Izuna’s Sharingan eyes were wide and shocked as they fixed on Tobirama’s face and lowered blade, apparently stunned enough to halt even his formidable skills as Tobirama all but hissed, “What happened?!” Izuna gapped at him and Tobirama shook the Uchiha, claws prickling on soft skin; aggravated the albino shook his captive like a misbehaving kitten, leaning closer “What. happened to Madara?”
Izuna recoiled twisting out of Tobirama’s hold with a fast attempted genjutsu and gaining a few scratches as he did, his delicate face twisted in annoyance and anger over confusion. “What the fuck is wrong with you Senju?!” he yelped back, striking out as he did and only making Tobirama madder – at least until Touka hollered, “Don’t main him cousin, I want him back in working order later!” and pouting Tobirama pulled himslef under control, only trying to ask about Madara a few more times and getting nothing useful from the Uchiha to his frustration. Fine, he would figure it out on his own.
Only, Tobirama’s attempts to sort out what had happened turned up nothing and even his attempts to give Madara gifts and consolation things hadn’t done anything (and yes, the delivery method could have used some work, but he couldn’t even get close to Madara now that Hashirama was worried about his friend because of the hair so it was hiding things in other Uchiha’s armor and hoping it got passed on or nothing), even the heads of the bloodline thieves with their eyes cut out! Tobirama had tried a bear too, and several juvenal hawks and falcons with injuries that Madara could rehabilitate (even an egal from wind that he found with a broken wing!), some good mourning silk for whoever they had lost and even a few effigies reinforced with chakra seals to burn to blow off some steam. And none of it seemed to help! Tobirama watched Madara’s chakra after the gift had been given and it never improved to his disappointment though time did seem to be helping as Madara slowly allowed his hair to grow out again and the line of tension in Tobirama’s spine slowly started easing and his brother stopped trying to feed him by throwing fish in his direction and eyeing Tobirama like a feral cat (….though, throwing the fish did work better than trying to eat normally and it was nice of Hashirama not to comment on Tobirama sitting on everything but the things that were intended to sit on, as far as Tobirama was concerned if he fits he sits).
Finally Madara’s hair was about half its old length (it grew almost as fast as Hashirama’s) and Tobirama was mostly back to normal even if the Uchiha were even more jumpy than normal around him for some reason. (Shocking, it wasn’t at all that the ‘gifts’ looked mostly like threats to people who hadn’t grown up around Tobirama and his…habits.) And then, just as Tobirama was settling into things again Madara’s chakra spiked with dismay and then dipped into cold sorrow and the next skirmish his lovely, lovely hair was cut off just as short as it had been that first time and Tobirama’s heart shattered. He just. He just didn’t know what to do anymore. Tobirama couldn’t think of anything that would be causing this, especially not as it went on, and on, and on! And Madara’s pain never eased, his hair never growing longer and Tobirama getting more and more feral with worry about his chosen person. What in the kami’s name could he do fix this?! Was Madara mourning every death in the war? It couldn’t be the permanent loss that Tobirama kept his short for as Izuna was fine and there were no rumors of something like a forced marriage to make Madara sad so – how was Tobirama supposed to fix this?!
Fine, fine, war was the problem (probably?) so Tobirama had to stop the war. Fine! Fine, so, what needed to happen for that? Izuna, Izuna was the first problem and with a little work and Mito’s help (his brother’s fiancé was perfect even if she didn’t get the fish thing) Touka could ambush him on a mission and…change his mind. SO, Izuna delt with, the elders and the power imbalance; elders could be killed or threatened (blackmail?) into peace- maybe they could get the temple to Amaterasu in the capital to make a proclamation for peace-, the power….hm. How…Tobirama’s red eyes lit up with an unholy light and Hashirama eyed his brother with worry, inching away from where Tobirama was sitting on the elder Senju’s desk, long fingers kneading the wood and leaving deep scratches in the wood. Lips pulling back from his sharp teeth Tobirama smiled, slinking off the desk Tobirama prowled out of his brother’s office, eyes glittering with plots as Hashirama breathed out a sigh and lifted his hand from the stash of blueberries he used to pacify his brother when he got like this.
Pleased with himself Tobirama watched with glittering eyes as the Senju and Uchiha started skirmishing again, Hikaku looking gray about facing the albino and relived when Tobirama just stood there with his arms crossed and a feline smile on his thin lips. Hashirama and Madara were wailing on each other, Hashirama sobbing about Madara’s hair and the Uchiha looking stony and confused and sending worried looks at Tobirama that only made him grin harder. Tobirama cocked his head, listening carefully and mentally counting down (Madara drew back from Hashirama, eyeing the albino with worry – it was the only reason he wasn’t caught when the wave broke over the battlefield), one, two, three, wham! The Hatake, backed by the Inuzuka and carrying the blackmail given to them on the elders of both the Senju and the Uchiha by the Hōki and led by a vanguard of wolves and a few other summons species, slammed into the battle like the breaking of a dam. Each Senju and Uchiha pinned by a summons- or some of the biggest summons holding down a few (or several) combatants- unless they had pulled back to the edges or were simply too strong to take down (so, Madara and Hashirama) and Tobirama strolled forward with a smug look to meet his Aunt.
Ástríðr smiled sharply at Tobirama as they greeted each other, ignoring the stunned clan heads, “Aunt” Tobirama purred, fingers flexing and bouncing slight where he stood as he fought down excited zoomies. “Tobi-cub,” his Aunt greeted and then turned to look at a stunned Hashirama and a floored Madara “s’up, the Hatake have just defeated you and taken you hostage” on que Tobirama darted out, long strands of water wrapping around his brother and Madara in makeshift restraints that would never actually hold them. “So, now we get to set the requirements for your release” Tobirama produced a contract “which is” she looked down, gray braids falling in her face “you have to sign a contract that stipulates a ceasefire for a year and good faith attempts to work together as well as allowing access to each other’s resources.” She tossed the contract to Madara as Hashirama started bouncing excitedly, the Uchiha searing away the ‘restraints’ into steam to catch it and thumbing through it and pausing when he hit the last pages and the blackmail tucked there, ignoring the way that the water curled around his wrists again.
“Tobi,” Hashirama breathed “really?!” Tobirama nodded and Hashirama immediately teared up, wiping at his face and muttering “oops” when it broke his ‘restraints’. Madara looked up slowly, dark eyes thoughtful as he looked over Tobirama and Ástríðr; a gloved finger tapping at the scroll as his eyes flicked over the battle where his clan was pinned – not that either the Senju or the Uchiha were actually fighting the summons honestly (Tobirama had chosen a day when both sides would be small and the Hatake had come with many sage summons, still, if Madara or Hashirama wanted they could have still easily broken this). “Peace” the Uchiha murmured “you’re forcing peace with summons.” Ástríðr shrugged carelessly, “It’s about time and I am tired of seeing my kin upset, besides, this peace means that the Uchiha will have access to the Hatake trade lines – you can’t tell me that wouldn’t be a boon to your clan. You may have a noble title, but money is more of a Senju thing, this evens that out.” Hashirama whined in high excitement, swaying side to side with his hands under his chin, squealing when Tobirama added, “Besides, if Touka has her way the clans will be tied with a and it will be easier to have a wedding if we’re not at war.”
Madara sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing even as Tobirama felt his chakra lighten a bit, good, “Fine, fine, I’ll sign. Hashirama stop making that kami forsaken sound, its making my head hurt. We’ll try this.” and Tobirama rocked back on his heels to hide the need to bounce in excitement, now Madara’s hair would grow out again and everything would be ok!
Everything was not ok. They had had a ceasefire for three months and Touka living with the Uchiha for one and Madara’s hair hadn’t grown! It was starting to drive Tobirama nuts and – look, he had taken some time off to spend with his summons after everything was signed and it might have seeped into him. A little. A tiny bit. Not that much at all. Only, as Tobirama stared down into shocked dark eyes just spinning into red he realized that maybe, maybe, he had spent too much time with them or he wouldn’t have hidden in the eves and pounced on Madara in the Uchiha compound while he was here visiting Touka, pinning the older man down at the shoulders and by way of sitting on his lap. Um. Well, since he was already hear and Madara hadn’t followed through with the knife he had to Tobirama’s belly, “Why” Tobirama snarled “are you still so sad?!”
Madara blinked up at him for a long moment, the knife finally dropping away even though this shirt was ruined now, “…What?” he asked slowly, his deep voice lovely when Tobirama could feel the rumble of it through his hands. (Focus!) “Your hair, you like it long, why is it mourning short?! I did everything to get peace so you would have no reason to keep it short and still you mourn!” Tobirama was as close to shouting as he came on the last words and Madara looked like he had been surprised right out of the Sharingan, the former knife hand dropping limply to press against Tobirama’s knee dug into the dirt. “I-“ Madara paused, reassessed, “what do you mean? Mourning short? I cut it to catch some bloodline thieves- it’s quite identifiable- and then had to cut it again when Koike Takeshi started moving into Fire more, he can manipulate hair and I was in close proximity several times.”
Tobirama paused and then pulled back sheepishly, sitting back on his heels over Madara’s thighs, his embarrassment overshadowing the heat of feeling those strong thighs under him. “Oh” he muttered, staring into his distance and missing the way Madara’s face filled with something intense and the gloved hand tightening on his knee and in the dirt. Koike Takeshi, hm, Tobirama had heard of him but not been close – clearly he had to rectify that so Madara could grow his hair again; it made since that he had cut it first to get to the thieves – but did that mean that Madara had never been mourning and Tobirama had made a fool of himslef?...oh. “Hey” Madara jostled the albino slightly with the hand on his knee “what does mourning short mean? What did you think was happening?” Tobirama hesitated, forcing himself not to squirm in embarrassment at the question.
“It – cut hair, you know, the way you cut your hair when some you love dies in mourning and grieve as it regrows?” Tobirama muttered quietly, not looking at Madara until the Uchiha poked him again eyebrows raised. “The Uchiha don’t do that.” he said matter of factly “Though that does explain why Hashirama’s hair was in that godawful cut as a child, you had lost both your brothers and mother recently right?” oh, oh that hadn’t even occurred to Tobirama; that that might be a cultural difference, kami that was embarrassing (he was still going to kill Koike Takeshi). Feeling shamed Tobirama slid off Madara and stood, uncertainly holding out a hand to help the other man up and feeling quite stupid now; a warm gloved hand closed around his and Tobirama leaned back to help lift the greater weight of the Uchiha up as he responded. “Yes, it – it must be a Senju thing, we wear our hair long and cut it only in mourning, burning the hair in the funeral in honor of the dead. Growing out your hair again is supposed to be part of the prosses of grieving; but if you lose a lot of close family at once it can take a while to grow back if you have to keep recutting it.”
Madara was looking at him with intent dark eyes as he dusted himself off, observing “Your hair has been short as long as I can remember, even though Hashirama’s has regrown.” And Tobirama twitched, he didn’t want to answer that, but he had brought it on himself with his stupidity, so Madara was owed it honestly, even if it hurt to explain. Tobirama licked his chapped lips and tilted his head slightly, “I…am different. As a child mother only partially cut my hair- as a Hatake she didn’t have to cut hers and as half she said I didn’t need to either- but when shew as gone and Ita died….Father….he felt differently about my hair and place in the clan, I was Hashi’s weapon and not supposed to ever wed or – well, he said there was no reason to grow out my hair as I would never need to give a Token and need a reminder of how I failed my other brother and – well. Father told me to keep it short. And I never-. The command stan-. I got used to it.” he finally settled on, awkwardly. Feeling dark eyes on his face, wondering if Madara realized that neither Hashirama nor Tobirama had cut their hair for their Father’s death, wondering what Madara thought about his Father’s orders.
Luckily the Uchiha didn’t address that at all, instead saying, “So when you saw my hair short you thought I had lost someone? And that I kept mourning because it never grew out all the way.” Tobirama shifted, looking anywhere but at the clan head and flexing his fingers anxiously as he shrugged, “I could feel the upset in your chakra. I could feel that your…that something was wrong, I tried to give you – well, I thought it might be the ongoing deaths of the war that were causing it, so I thought if I stopped that….I know you value your hair so….I apologize for the mistake.” Woodenly Tobirama bowed to the Uchiha, missing the widened, pleased eyes as he backpaddled, about to bound away when Madara said “It’s like my mother’s, I mean, I have my mother’s hair and growing it out was my choice. One I made for myself against my clan and father; so yes, I value it. I hadn’t realized anyone knew.” Oh. well. This was. Awkward. Tobirama felt like he didn’t deserve to know this but didn’t want to invalidate it, so he forced himself to meet the inky eyes, reaching out without thinking and nearly touching the feathery hair before he caught himslef. “Its lovely hair” he breathed shyly “it looks good short, but I have…missed, the length.” And that was about as much emotional exposure as Tobirama could take, making hurried apologies and darting away, he had papers to take his brother and a worrying enemy to take care of. (Behind his rushed retreat Madara stared after the albino with slightly parted lips and wide eyes, a shiver of something aching and heated curling down his spine. He needed to know more – luckily his brother had a wife-to-be in residence that should know the answers to Madara’s questions.)
