Work Text:
“This is a trick,” Izuna snarls, sharingan swirling as he stares at the letter sitting on the table between them. “Aniki — you should burn this. Don’t believe it.”
It’s a ceasefire treaty, delivered by hawk immediately after their hasty retreat from the last battle — when the White Demon had revealed that he had somehow learned to teleport, and put his katana clean through Izuna. The only reason Madara’s brother is still alive now is because Hashirama had miraculously healed him from what should have been a mortal wound.
Hashirama. His soulmate. The proof is sitting in front of him. At the end of the document is a small note, clearly from Hashirama’s own hand rather than a scribe’s:
I’m glad you’ve changed your mind, old friend. This is but the beginning; I hope that in the future, we can build a more lasting peace where we can stand beside each other whole-heartedly.
Faithfully yours,
千手 柱間
Senju Hashirama
As if reading his mind, Izuna renews his protest. “It’s one character. One. You can hardly take it as confirmation —”
“But he wrote his name, Izuna,” Madara interrupts. Too many emotions are bubbling through his chest right now — joy from finding his soulmate, exhilaration from having their childhood dreams for peace within reach, determination to make Hashirama’s efforts succeed at all costs. But through it all, a profound sense of rightness overwhelms his heart.
No one would sign such a public document with their name in kanji. This is a declaration, a confession from Hashirama.
He met Hashirama when they were thirteen, years before either of their soulmarks appeared. Even after that confrontation at the river, when Madara had made the anguished choice to put his family over Hashirama, he had been certain whose name he would carry for the rest of his life. And when he received his soulmark at sixteen — two kanji on his wrist, but one of them covered by a gnarled burn scar — he knew that most of his family had pitied him for it. A partial mark is a tragedy that made for doomed romances, but Madara had seen the 間 on his wrist and known that Amaterasu had seen fit to reward his faith with her greatest blessing: a soulmate worthy of his love.
Hashirama, who has been pleading for peace since the moment he became clan head. Hashirama, who persisted in begging Madara to give their dream village a chance. Hashirama, who put Madara’s brother back together again, even when any normal shinobi would have left their enemy clan’s second greatest warrior to die.
Why would he, the Senju clan head, go to such lengths if he didn’t have a reason? And what greater reason could he have than fate?
Madara grabs a sheet of paper and begins to pen his response, deaf to Izuna’s protests.
We’ll have our peace. I’m only sorry it took me so long to accept you; now that circumstances have changed, you have my word that I will convince the rest of my clan to join us in making our dreams of a peaceful ninja village come true. And once it’s built, nothing will stop me from being by your side.
Always yours,
団扇 斑
Uchiha Madara
~
Tobirama sees the kanji that Uchiha Madara used to sign his letter to Hashirama, and freezes.
I should never have covered it up , he thinks dazedly. Hashirama’s excited chatter feels very far away, the implications of that single kanji taking up the forefront of Tobirama’s mind. He knows every stroke, committed it to memory before he tattooed over his wrist in red ink the day after he turned sixteen. Tobirama had suspected it would be him — there are very few given names where the character would fit — but the confirmation upends his whole world.
For half a second, Tobirama seriously considers the possibility of reformulating the Hiraishin to travel through time, instead of space. Uchiha Madara would never accept him without proof of their soulbond. If he could reach out to his teenage self, short-sighted as he was because of his despair over an impossible match, Tobirama would persuade him to abandon the ink and find another way to hide his soulmark. Once Butsuma and Tajima die, there would be nothing stopping him from revealing his mark to Madara, and the Uchiha clan would finally have a reason to accept Anija’s entreaties for peace —
Tobirama ruthlessly squashes that train of thought. Dwelling on the past is pointless; the 斑 on his wrist has been covered and will remain that way forever. What matters is that Madara has finally answered Hashirama’s call to peace — no doubt he’d seen the true kanji to Hashirama’s name and drawn his own conclusions as to the characters that would make up Tobirama’s.
扉間 could be the name on his wrist.
This village must succeed. Tobirama was already prepared to assist Anija in making his dreams into reality, but now, Tobirama has even further incentive to ensure a lasting peace and a prosperous village. Impossibly, he has a shot at a future with his soulmate, and he will not squander it.
Tobirama turns back to Hashirama, and gets to work.