Saviour

9.

Warning: Strong content.

The team that was sent behind me as backup never found me. I could sense them easily, staying for a full day, looking for me. They must have believed I was dead.

I didn't care.

For three days I stayed at our spot, bathing in the lake, laying down, sleeping, crying.

Madara...

I could sense his chakra getting further and further away from me.

Finally, it struck me that Konoha and especially my brother must be mourning me, so I headed back. I was exhausted, but still I ran, for hour after hour after hour, refusing myself rest when I realised that running kept my mind from things, that exhaustion kept my brain from going Madara, Madara, Madara...

Finally, I stumbled through the gates, through the familiar streets of Konoha that felt so unfamiliar after everything that had happened, after everything I'd been through, after everything we'd been through, until I reached Hashirama's office. I opened the door tiredly, could only just discern his figure before I slumped to my knees. I could see him standing up, hurrying to me until he stood opposite me.

And there he stood, understanding that my tiredness wasn't only physical, but something different entirely.

I felt a tingling sensation in my hand. Shit, not now. It spread quickly through my underarms and on to my chest, where it clenched at my heart and my lungs until I couldn't breathe.

"Tobirama, you're hyperventilating!" I could hear Hashirama exclaim. He kneeled beside me. "Calm down. Calm down, slow breaths. Slow breaths, Tobirama."

I tried to obey, but my body wouldn't.

Instead I lay down, a trail of drool dripping from my lips, connecting me to the floor.

And screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed...

Two years passed, during which I couldn't function like a normal shinobi, or even human being. I overslept for meetings where I was expected to act as Hashirama's right hand, and failed countless missions.

"I'm sorry", I told Hashirama multiple times, despite him never scolding me.

"Take some time off", he said kindly. I didn't want to, but he convinced me by saying I only made matters worse by trying.

I still sensed Madara's chakra, every day. In the evenings, I enjoyed sitting by the Nakano, looking at the stars and just sensing him. Sometimes, he was in battle, sometimes resting. I could feel those changes easily. But the turning point came one night two years after that night in the desert. I was in Hashirama's and Mito's house for dinner, and in the middle of it, I suddenly sensed Madara's chakra, strong like a waterfall, and it was intermingled with that of another man's in a way it only was when two people had a sexual intercourse with each other.

And I had another panic attack.

Hashirama and his wife took care of me, but I thanked them early and said I needed some time alone. So I went to the Nakano in the starry night, picked out two kunai, closed my eyes, tilted my head back, lifted the blades, let them reflect the stars, drink them up, absorb their light into the metal.

And I sliced myself.

My chest, my thighs, my neck, my arms. Through the black fabric of my arms I created deep wounds that I felt I needed to reflect the pain I felt inside. It was mind-numbing, distanced me from everything, and I found myself outside Hashirama's and Mito's door.

"Oh my God, Tobirama!" Mito exclaimed.

"You're staying in my bed tonight", Hashirama said sternly. "I'm keeping an eye on you."

So I woke up the next morning with Hashirama bare-chested next to me, already awake, observing me.

"You're wounds are healing well", he said, stroking one with his finger.

"I'm sorry", I said.

"It needs to stop. It needs to stop now"

And he took me into his arms and held me, stroking my hair, and I leaned my face into his warm chest and let him hold me, kissing the top of my head.

And it stopped.

I had to work so hard for it, but it stopped.

I got a team of three young shinobi to tutor, and I put my heart and soul into them. I loved them dearly, like they were my little brothers, and the time I didn't spend teaching them or joining them for missions, I spent planning their training or giving them private lessons. They thrived, the rivalry developing between Danzig and Saru egging their education on, and they were soon known to be the best upcoming ninja in Konoha. I took pride in that.

After having been their tutor for a year, when I had also excelled at my own missions as a leader of a four-man-squad of jonin, as well as as Hashirama's right hand, I woke up one day and realised that the place in my heart that had been Madara didn't hurt anymore, because it wasn't empty but full.

I was happy, and I wasn't striving to meet him anymore.

The rain poured down on my face, made crying easier because nobody would notice. So this is how he felt, I thought. This is how Madara felt when Izuna died.

Their tombstones were massive, engulfed by the mass of mourning people who have gathered.

"Goodbye, brother", I murmured.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Saru. "Hokage-sama... Should we go to your office?"

I smiled at him. He would be my right hand in my new role as the second hokage. "You can always call me by my first name, Saru."

An uneasy sleep.

Something disturbing it.

Rumbling my dreams up in a spiralling motion.

Infusing me.

I sat up, cold sweat drenching my sheets and my naked skin. I was panting, lost for breath. Fuck...

And then I realised what had woken me up.

Madara's chakra.

Madara's chakra, just outside of Konoha.