Chapter Text
Even after all these years, Tajima contemplated, peace was still a strange experience. But even so, the absence of certain death for his children—any of his clan’s children—was well worth the elders’ constant nagging. Although, admittedly, Tajima was getting rather tired of it. The old goats had grown almost rabid ever since Madara’s Center had rejoined the Uchiha compound for another year of fostering, and it grated on his nerves.
It almost seemed they were worried about the torment awaiting them in the upcoming months. As if Tobirama would ever do something that’d seriously endanger the peace that he himself had been the focal point of since he’d been meagre three years old. Not when it was, technically, only in its name that he was allowed to stay with Madara for most of the year. Then again, it wasn’t as if their peace with the Senju would be endangered by anything Tobirama might do other than murder in cold blood. In front of witnesses. Who actually liked his crotchety prey more than him.
Yeah, thinking of it, Tobirama wasn’t restricted in his choice of entertainment all that much. Tajima was ridiculously fond of the endearing little terror who wasn’t all that little anymore.
And while he was interested to see what creative ways he’d thought of during his time at home, Tajima would have to talk to the old dog and see if they couldn’t send their remaining warmongers on a joint mission to either learn to keep peace with each other at long last or at least get rid of the problem in a more old-fashioned way.
If Madara’s forlorn sighs over the past lonely month were any indication, his heir would appreciate Tobirama’s attention to be not focused elsewhere, anyway. He wondered when the both of them would eventually out-grow the puppy-love stage. It had held up so much longer than anyone had anticipated, but Tajima would enjoy the nightly quiet for as long as he could get it.
Sitting serenely in the garden and sipping tea in the early light of a new morning, he ignored the loud crash followed by maniac laughter. His kids knew better than to actively bother him during his dedicated downtime.
Izuna would do well to get his reacquaintance with Tobirama out of the way right away rather than giving his all-but-brother a chance to make a game out of it. Tobirama’s feline brand of games wasn’t for the weak-hearted, and for all that Izuna showed great promise as an upcoming interrogator with all that entailed, he was still rather delicate himself. It might just be Tobirama’s uncanny talent of tailoring games to his chosen prey’s weaknesses, though.
Tajima closed his eyes to savour another sip of tea and to protect them from the billowing steam as Izuna countered Tobirama’s multiple water bullets with a burst of flame like an idiot. As if that had ever worked in the past, and Tobirama wouldn’t simply use the spread-out moisture to imitate Fūton and carry his small Raiton on top of his devastating Suiton abilities.
As usual, with Izuna and Tobirama caught up in one of their little games, Tajima didn’t get to finish his tea on his own time.
Roaring in rage when his hair stuck out in every direction from the charged air surrounding them, Izuna spat a Great Fireball that would have been impressive in its sight if Tajima wasn’t fed up with being its recipient after Tobirama sprung out of the way with a wheezing laugh.
Tajima used his chakra to smother the flame approaching him while simultaneously weaving a genjutsu to hide its disappearance, allowing himself to light up in an illusioned inferno while dispassionately staring the boys down who stopped their spar to gracelessly gape as Tajima brushed off the flames like a traveller would dust themselves off, shaking his hand carelessly to the side until the last spark of illusioned fire dissipated into thin air.
“Are the two of you done yet?”
OMAKE:
He should have known that he wouldn’t get to have his evening tea in peace after his morning had already been disturbed. The only surprise was that it was Madara who burst into his room, hair flying behind him like a banner, and almost climbed Tajima’s desk in an attempt to get up in his face.
“You gotta teach me, and you’ll do it now,” his son snarled, something wild around his eyes that were both visible for once as his fringe billowed in the heat of his subconscious chakra release.
What?
“I don’t care that it’s a sacred secret of Indra himself. I don’t care that I’m not about to be clan head anytime soon. Tobirama hasn’t shut up about your ‘impressive feat that defies all known laws of nature’ all day, and I will not stand for it any longer.”
Ah. Tajima really should have known. Still.
“Sorry, son. Either you’ll figure it out yourself, or you’ll need to contemplate patricide to access the secrets reserved for the clan head’s eyes.”
Tajima returned to his tea with all the serenity he could muster while Madara looked much too considering.
Eh.
Tobirama was too fond of Tajima for Madara to take the offered shortcut. He would be fine.