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Tobi
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Old 07-13-2012, 12:42 AM

So this was my first attempt at writing a fic that was centric around Madara^^; It was planned out before he appeared int he manga and all that jazz, so his character wasn't well known. If I knew more about his character before starting this out, it would have been drastically different. Enjoy none the less, though!
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"Teddy bear," Madara declared with some sense of pride. His eyes looked as if they were examining every last detail of the room as he turned his head towards Hashirama, while the rest of his body seemed motionless on the sickly green couch (obviously picked out by Hashirama). He lowered his head but not his gaze, giving an expecting expression, "Yes?"
The tanner man couldn't help but smirk just hearing the 'serious' and 'dangerous' man say such words, but his eyes couldn't hide his distaste for such a nickname. He gingerly picked words out of the ether, "Don't you think that's a little much?"

The sickly man was quick to defend his case, his body responding adamantly to stress his point, "But it's accurate!" He shuffled around in his seat so that he was no longer cutting off the blood circulation past his knees. He uncomfortably poked the bigger of the two, "You're soft and plush like a stuffed animal. Not to mention hairy." Hashirama wisped Madara's hand away but didn't have time to be offended as the younger one continued with determination, "But you're as intimidating (not to me of course) and territorial as a bear! You can't stand it when I'm within three meters of a woman! And in battle, you even bellow like a bear, therefore making you a teddy bear." Madara seemed to be proud of his sound logic which he showed physically by crossing his arms over his chest, dismissing Hashirama's case before he could even make one. Hashirama was stunned silent, not knowing how to respond with how offended he felt. Hashirama lightly tugged at his split ends, a playful smile dancing across his face.

Hashirama was a man of few words, "I don't think so, Madara."

Though his arms were still crossed over his chest, they now seemed to show a defensive grasp on the nickname. Inquisitive and threatening, with the raise of a single eyebrow the Uchiha dared Hashirama to come up with a better pet name. Hashirama gaze shifted from Sharingan to split ends until he settled on his hair. Just as abrupt as Madara originally introduced his alias, the Senju presented his, "Pansy."

Madara initially was taken aback by the word, but put the pieces of the puzzle together in his head. His figure shifted again so that he sat cross legged on the couch, his upper back hanging by an invisible support thread. His look was reflective instead of attacking, "I guess that suits you too considering your clan background, but it seems a little insulting, doesn't it?"

Hashirama let go of his hair all together, placing his hands on his lap in an attempt to rid himself of the habit, "It's your nickname, not mine."

Madara's face grew pale. His lips pursed. His mind unable to pick from saying any of the million of things Madara wanted to say that moment. Sensing the increasingly bitter aura leaking from smaller (and as past has proven, building a cold and miserable night alone), the Senju tried to explain himself, "Even if you try your hardest to get rid of them, pansies grow back every year. They're stubborn little things."

Madara's mood only seemed to worsen. Hashirama didn't quite understand, he could talk to other clan leaders, talk them into doing whatever Hashirama thought was suitable (most notably forming a village), yet he can't ever seem to please Madara. "And they're awfully pretty flowers too. One of my favorites."

Madara's expression remained sour as his eyes bubbled with hate towards the Senju, the Senju that was the enemy once again in the battle of nicknames. Not one of their best known battles; if fact only a battle the two of them would ever know and would be too embarrassed to ever bring up again. Hashirama looked far far far away from Madara's gorgeous red eyes, he had learned long before that looking into them while Madara was just this angry always led to trouble; left Madara happy (or as close to happy as Madara can get), but usually left the Senju not knowing where or who he was.

Hashirama suggested what Madara would argue is the smartest thing the Senju has ever said in his entire life, "Maybe we should just forget the nicknames."

The younger one's burning energy seemed to evaporate instantaneously with the pleasure of knowing that he would never have to respond to 'pansy', "Yeah. We should."

 


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