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Madara pressed himself back into his corner with a distressed hiss, lashing out with sharp claws at the large thick brown hand approaching him cuffing with laughter when he was rewarded with a distressed wail and the fast recoil of the hand. “Hashi, honestly, leave it be. It’s not causing a problem.” said a cool rich voice, soothing Madara’s fur down and letting him settle into a more comfortable crouch than his squished back stance “But brother! He shouldn’t be in your laboratory, what if you hurt him?” Madara’s ears pinned back sharply at the change in the cool tea-ink-rosehips scent (He was sad, Madara didn’t like it) and the voice was tight when he responded “Are you saying that I’m going to be so distracted as to hurt it or that I will hurt it on purpose?” there was a pause and then “Um.” “Get out brother, the caracal will be fine and doesn’t want to go with you anyway.” The wailing renewed but the voice was firm, and it wasn’t long before the second man was kicked out of the room, Madara breathed a sigh of relief only to stiffen when he saw sharp red eyes watching him where the pale shape was sitting against at table across from him. The albino (?) sat and watched (he looked tired) for a long moment before speaking “I’m not going to hurt you. Brother’s wrong, you’ll be fine, and I’ve never experimented on a live animal before if I wasn’t going to kill it quickly and then eat it and I am certainly not going to do anything to you accidentally.” The albino chewed on his lip for a moment “I think – I know he doesn’t mean it like that but… it’s,” he broke off with a sharp shake of his head “foolish, I already know he thinks me cruel, this is nothing new” and stood up, leaving Madara in his corner and turning to other things.
Madara dozed, drifting and lazy as the soft sounds from the lab filtered through; quiet clicking, soft murmuring as the albino talked to himself, the almost constant sound of brush on paper, and then the soft sounds of water filling a dish; he ignored it until there was a soft clack as something was set in front of the bench he was tucked away under and he opened his eyes in time to see feet walking away and a low dish filled with water placed where he could get to it without having to leave his safe little bolt-hole. Madara eyed the dish warily, he would like some water but he was reluctant to expose his back with he knew (?) how fast the albino could move but… they hadn’t done anything to him, had even chased out the tree for him, so probably… Madara slunk out from under the bench warily but the man was on the other side of the lab, bent over a pile of scrolls that made Madara dizzy just to look at so for now he focused on getting a drink before retreating under the bench. Only, now that he had poked his head out he was curious about the lab and it was harder to sit still so after fidgeting for several long minutes he poked his head out, looking around to see if he could find the man; luckily they were right where Madara had last scene them, bent over the desk and chewing on a lip harshly enough it probably hurt. Either way Madara was fairly sure he could come out and look around and not be noticed as long as he was careful at this point, which was nice because the popping spitting thing in the corner was very interesting and Madara wanted to see what it did.
The lab Madara discovered was a fascinating place, so many interesting smells and bubbling things and reams upon reams of paper; and the pale man didn’t pay him any attention except to warn him off of some of the more delicate things with a thin stream of water around them. So it was somewhat surprising to turn around after poking into the last corner and find those red eyes fixed on him as the albino watched him with a tired expression, “You’re very smart, I wonder if you have some nin-animal in you.” He watched Madara as the caracal watched him back “You remind me of Madara, there’s something about you… maybe it’s the ear tufts. Though, it almost feels like… I would swear you feel like his charka which makes no sense” he rubbed at his face looking exhausted “he’s not even in the village right now, off being pacifying the Daimyo right now” Madara, who had perked up at the sound of his name, sighed and settled back on his haunches, no luck then. The albino tapped at his desk thoughtfully, “It’s a good thing too I suppose, he probably wouldn’t like this research even though all I am trying to do is figure out how to get his brother out of that damn coma!” Madara hissed softly, he might not recognize people at the moment but he knew who his brother was, would know his brother no matter what, and to here this person talk about his brother was… Infuriating though he couldn’t have said why; the albino sent him a sad look at the hiss, seeming to shrink a little, "rather more like him than I thought then.” He said softly “He is so determent to think the worst of me and – you can't yell at me can you? Maybe you’ll hear me out even if he won’t.”
The albino shifted to face Madara a little more head on though he still avoided the cat’s eyes “I stabbed Izuna you see,” (Izuna, that was his brother’s name) “it was a battle and he was trying to kill me and- Hashi and Madara never tried all that hard to kill each other but Izuna wants me dead, the Senju ‘freak’ is better off dead I guess” Madara shifted a little, he didn’t want to call the albino ‘freak’ even if he didn’t have another name “so I stabbed him but – I couldn’t do it. Madara looked… I couldn’t do it even though I knew it meant that Izuna could kill my clansmen and I knew he was going to try and kill me; he hates me to much not to take the opportunity so I, I tried to heal him. Only Touka saw him raise his sword and stab me and she pulled me out of the way before I could finish healing Izuna; he fell into a coma after that and I haven’t the faintest idea why! My healing should have been enough to help him recover a fair amount of the way even if I didn’t finish it but, we’ve had the village for six months now and he hasn’t so much as twitched. Madara blames me for it of course, I can’t even be mad about it, Hashi hasn’t forgiven me for it either and he’s supposed to be my brother a not think the worst of me. Touka was furious of course, mad as a wet cat that I let Izuna land a hit on me when I could have avoided it and let Izuna die but…” the albino, twisted painfully at his fingers “I couldn’t do that too Madara.” He whispered to the scarred desk. Madara shifted he – he didn’t really understand, if this story was correct- and Madara didn’t remember clearly enough what had happened to know if it was- then the albino had been rewarded for his mercy with unkindness where he should have been thanked and that - that didn’t sit right with Madara.
The… um, the Senju freak (he needed a better name) pulled hard at his fingers and scrubbed his face, “This is foolish. Telling a cat about things in the past just because it feels a tiny bit like Madara is stupid. Fucking useless. I need to focus, if I can just get Izuna to wake up…” he trailed off as he turned back to his notes and Madara watched him from across the room, paralyzed with confusion; he wanted to hate the pale man but, but what if he was telling the truth? And why would he lie to a cat? If he was telling the truth… Madara prowled slowly closer, inching his way across the lab in a circular movement that hid his intention of getting closer to the absorbed man (how long had he been working on this? the circles under his pretty eyes were impressive). The Senju freak (Madara’s skin crawled a little to think of him like that) didn’t look up until Madara leapt lightly onto his desk and stared at the tired man who blinked at him with eyes Madara could see where unfocused- they were also quite pretty now that he could see them closer, even the pupil was red!- “…yes?” he asked after a moment (it was a little odd how much the albino treated him like he could understand, wasn’t it?) and Madara rumbled happily, stocking forward to but his head against one long fingered hand; for a moment there was nothing and then he began to stroke Madara carefully, long caresses down Madara’s back that got more sure when all the caracal did was arch into his hand.
Madara was more than a little shocked by the sudden sniff and looked at the Senju- nope, not calling him that- um, person; freezing when he saw tears dripping from red eyes (he hated that they looked even prettier like that), completely unsure what had caused the sudden weeping. “I’m sorry” he rasped drawing his hands back and tucking them to his chest like he expected to be told off for petting Madara “I’m sorry, I just- it’s been a while since anyone touched me with Touka away with the Uzumaki after she tried to attack Hashi and I- I’m sorry” he trailed off into a tired whisper and all the fur on Madara’s back went up; for him- uh, pretty eyes, that would work- for pretty eyes to be so touched starved as too cry over petting a cat was just not right. Hadn’t the tall annoying man- Hashi?- said they were brothers? Why wasn’t he petting pretty eyes as often as he needed? Well, Madara didn’t know what was going on, he couldn’t remember thing that had happened in the past very well for all that he knew facts, and he knew that pretty eyes thought Madara hated him but while he was a cat and couldn’t remember why he hated the albino he could take care of the slim man. With that in mind he slipped closer, rubbing against strong arms gently and flopping himself down in front of pretty eyes, willing to wait until the man collected himself and started petting again.
Madara was fairly sure it was only his presence and his hunger that convinced the man to leave his labs and return to his house shadowed by Madara the whole way; he was clearly a little surprised to see that Madara had come with him but didn’t question it (Madara had a feeling he didn’t want to jinx it), just letting the caracal into the house and digging out some meat for him to eat out of a dish on the counter Madara had claimed for himself. A counter that gave him a good view of the defeated look on pretty eyes’ face as he looked at the stove, clearly fighting with himself about eating of not until Madara hiss at him and he slowly set to cooking a bland meal; it was eaten with a similar lack of enthusiasm and after he just stared at this dishes for a moment before moving to do them mechanically, yes, Madara decided, pretty eyes needed a keeper and since no one else was around to do it he would until he turned back into himself.