Soul-bound

16. Tea house

It took a long time for us to learn to trust one another.

Years of hurt and loss and not knowing where the other was, physically and mentally, had taken its toll.

But we learned. Over the years, we learned.

And with that trust came the passion. It was insane, how thirsty we became for one another when our love was flavoured with stability. Hashirama could come home from the office with his mind set on a meal or a shower, but as soon as he saw me, he would throw himself over me and fuck me senseless. Then, he would go have said meal or shower and then come back to me to do it all over again.

We were insatiable for a long, long time. But we both knew it was all thanks to the communication between us, the time we took to sit in our favourite tea house, sipping hot tea and eating cake while talking things through and getting to know each other; both the men we were now, and the men we had been during our years apart.

The villagers took a bit longer learning to trust me. I had said I didn't care, but I realised that wasn't true. I did care what they thought of me. But as Hashirama learned to trust me, so did the villagers.

At first, they were terrified. They shunned me as I walked the streets, hid their children behind their backs as I smiled at them; I loved children. They knew about my power, about what I was capable of. I could destroy the village by lifting a finger, irrespective of Hashirama's presence.

But they finally gave themselves over to me when I defended the village from an outside attack. Hashirama was gone that day for a meeting abroad, but I single-handedly saved the entire village, no blood of ours spilled.

That was when they started greeting me in the streets, the villagers. That was when they started encouraging their children to wave at me. That was when they came up to me, offering me flower crowns.

And me and Hashirama kept talking in the tea house, laughing together, building our life.

We were very, very happy.

Tears were streaming down my face.

"Madara..."

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

I hid my face in my hands and cried. I was desperate for Hashirama to hold me, but he didn't. Instead, he grabbed my arms and forced me to look at him. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was what I needed. He was good like that, seeing what I needed when I didn't see it myself.

"Madara, listen to me. We've lived here for a year! I'm fine! I'm more than fine; I'm happy here! You must stop apologising for things that aren't your fault!"

I tried holding back my tears. I tried to understand he was right, but it was so, so difficult.

We had lived in the wooden cottage Hashirama had built for a year now, just as Hashirama said. Rumours had started spreading in the village that me and Hashirama were a couple. We had not been open about it, but hadn't tried to hide it, either. To our great surprise, the villagers didn't accept it. In the end, I had been so depressed that Hashirama had decided we must move and leave the village to take care of itself, not caring to interfere with who the new leader would be.

And I was still terrified. Terrified that I had taken Hashirama's dream life away from him, that he wasn't happy here, deep in the forest, in our beautiful home.

Hashirama leaned his forehead against mine, took my hands, braided our fingers.

"We've talked about this", he said. "Everywhere is home as long as you're there."

I closed my eyes. Then, a thought struck me, a thought that I just had to share.

"You could go back, you know", I whispered.

Hashirama immediately detached his forehead from mine and looked at me. I didn't dare to look back.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"I mean, you could go back. Without me. The villagers loved you so much, they would see past your deviation and take you back. I can stay here. You can visit sometimes."

I had never, ever seen Hashirama so angry as when I made that suggestions. He screamed at me. He walked back and forth. Finally, he had to sit down.

He looked at me with a more stern expression on his face than I had ever seen.

"Do you think I want to go back? Do you think I can just ignore the way they've treated us? The way they've treated you?! Do you really think so little of me that you think something as materialistic as a certain place goes before my own beloved as well as my self-respect?"

I looked at him, lips parted. He was fuming. In that moment, I was almost afraid of him.

"I'm sorry", I whispered.

He sighed, then stood up, came to me and put a strand of my hair behind my ear. He connected our hips, backed me up softly against the wall. My hand automatically went to his hair, which was short again.

"No, I'm sorry", he murmured. "I shouldn't have screamed at you like that."

"Hashi..."

He kissed me softly on the lips, put his arms around my waist.

"Mmm", he moaned.

"Ahh..." I whined, feeling myself blush as his hand went up my thigh. "God..."

"Never doubt me again."

I melted beneath his body.