Tobirama was not ready to be tackled mid-sprint by a blur of dark spikes. Nor did he expect to wake up two days later in the heart of his enemy's territory. But there he was: wearing unfamiliar silks (that felt like absolute heaven) in a bed foreign to him, with an all too familiar chakra waiting outside the door. As if all of this wasn't odd enough, the last thing he expected was to see Madara's tear-streaked face when the door finally opened, and for the man to come crawling into bed with him seeking comfort. Wasn't he supposed to be a prisoner? This was a book I spontaneously decided to write after years of not writing any sort of story so we'll see how this goes. Hang on, it's gonna be a bumpy (and possibly emotional) ride. I had absolutely zero intention of people actually seeing this story, but I'm so happy you guys did because everyone who reads and comments absolutely makes my day 💜💜