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Hashirama was beginning to worry for his brother.
No scratch that, he was always worried about his brother but this was a more particular worry.
It had already been five years since their little village came to be, so many changes in so little time. Some days, he still woke up dreading the next clash between their clans, only to breathe a sigh of relief and confusion when he saw the different house he's in. Sees the Uchiha's and Senju's walking down the streets together. Sees the little fractures of his childhood dreams have a breath of life to them.
He always worried for Tobirama, since they were kids.
He worried when Tobirama cried as a baby, worried when he wouldn't cry when he got hurt, worried when his brother would hold back his tears of frustration or throw himself into a self-imposed project that only seemed to cause him negativity — just to ignore the previous negativity.
He worried about his brother a lot, especially on the battlefield. He always worried that if he didn't pay enough attention, if he veered off for a moment — for just a fraction of a second — he'd truly be left in a house with nobody to come back to.
With Konoha came a new worry. About how his brother would adjust to interact with the Uchiha's, and possibly, other clans. With the worry of having to put responsibility on Tobirama's shoulders because his sweet baby brother wouldn't let him shoulder it alone. With the worry of how others would treat his brother when he's doing his best, but not in the way they want him to do his best.
After some time, those small worries seemed to become just that, small worries that were ultimately irrational.
His brother had taken to the job despite it all, having found the area he best works at — working to establish the academy and helping him set the standards for the hospitals were good examples. Even if Tobirama can't seem to stand Madara some days, he still talks to him politely and even seems to have fun talking to Izuna — He's seen his brother hang around Hikaku, helping Naomi and seen that soft look with the Uchiha children. He saw how his more reserved nature didn't stop Hikaku and an Inuzuka girl by the name of Tzu from inviting him to hang out — talking to him animatedly and seemingly be unbothered by his brother's quirks. Seen how sparing with Izuna washed away and softened those harsh lines on his brother's face. Seen how Tobirama had taken to working with everyone else without major hiccups in the road.
It had settled something within Hashirama. Made him breathe easier, seeing that Konoha truly was a good thing for his brother and their clan. He had calmed down.
Hashirama now wonders if he shouldn't have.
As he now stood in right outside of Tobirama's room, feeling the way the usual flowing river of chakra dried up everywhere but at the source — how its all stuck in one place, restrained and gathering dirt and grime that ruined its crystal apperance and didn't allow the sun to show its depth.
Hashirama sighed, feeling his heart seize, wondering what he could have missed. Had something happened? Had he'd been blind all this time? Had his brother managed to withhold information from him? Or had he been willingfully ignorant and covered his ears to what he should have been able to hear?
His fist curled, a pit slowly forming in his stomach. Heavy and never-ending, sucking out all of the warmth from the surrounding wood that always reacted too intimately with his emotions.
A quick breath.
(The wood behind him cracks)
He closed his eyes.
(The table was slightly bent)
He knocked on the wooden beam next to the door.
(A small creak that shouldn't have resounded so loudly in his ears.)
"Tobi...?"
Hashirama stayed quiet as he awaited some indication that Tobirama reacted. Ears strained in the reverberating silence of the house while he focused on the frozen lake that he sensed.
He held his breath in some hope of a reaction, something. (Anything)
Finally, there was something a small sound that reminded him of the crackling of ice. Sudden and unexpected, maybe you'd miss it if you weren't paying attention.
Hashirama let out the old breathe he had captured and slowly opened the door. Eyes immediately falling onto the figure in the middle of the room.
Various cloths, of different lengths and thickness, clumped together to form a roll of sorts around one thing. Around Tobirama.
Some part of Hashirama imagined it to be akin to the hidden lakes that bloomed flora unknown to the world in the depths of tall mountains nobody ever dared to climb and search.
Hashirama took a deep breath and moved slowly, keeping his senses open for any shifts in Tobirama's chakra. "Tobi?" He called again as he approached the younger Senju.
For a moment, there was no response.
Then suddenly, he felt a sort of cold envelope him, but it wasn't the type you'd associate with fear or worry. It's one of familiarity, like a cool breeze or a nice dip in the lake on a warm day. It was something he knew and something he welcomed.
He smiled to himself, at the clinginess of his little brother. Feeling his own chakra rear up, growing like that of an ancient tree and making canals in its own bark to help the water flow.
As he stepped forward, the clashing of his weirdly formed chakra with the free flow of the other still reminded him of a lake. Though this time, a lake hidden between large trees and thick vegetation. Mangroves decorating it edges and letting the sun form spectacles over its clear water. That always shyed away with the shadows of the clouds.
Hashirama sat down by the little tuff of white at the top, hands firmly in his lap as he sat there for a moment. Just in silence.
Hashirama closed his eyes, feeling the way Tobirama's chakra hesitantly crawled further. The ball of energy uncondencing from his core, like ice thawing as the warmth of spring, encapsulates it. Letting it be freed from its cold prison and breathe renewed relief to the world around it.
Hashirama peaked an eye open at the sound of cloth shifting, being met by the sight of red eyes that always seemed guarded and shallow to the world.
Yet here in front of him, shunned a bright ruby that reflected the sunset rippling on the water. Here, they were deep and filled to the brim with different shades and shines to them. The slightest crinkle at the corners or the lightest shift of the light reveals a new gradient filled with untold awe and vigor.
Hashirama opened his eyes as he turned to face his brother, who was still very much unwilling to leave the safety of his self-made cocoon.
Tobirama's face was still as impassive as ever, at least to those who couldn't read him well. Hashirama always thought that his baby brothers eyes were far more expressive than he's ever heared anyone describe them. Yet maybe it's because they held no candle to the open book his chakra was.
The way it wrapped and mixed with his own, pulsing and flowing in a way that Hashirama knew like the back of his hand. Tobirama was such an open book. It baffled him that anyone would describe him as dispassionate and separated when his brother tried to live in every moment.
Though maybe it was just a sensor thing.
Hashirama felt himself soften, every possible ache in his body disappearing at the slightest crinkle of his brow and the reflecting light in his eyes. Hashirama smiled softly, hands folded on his lap. "Tobi," He greeted softly as always. "Potato?"
There was another shift before Tobirama's voice finally sounded out. "Potato." He answered, pronouncing the letter differently as always. He shifted a bit more, letting the cocoon lightly collapse so he could move more. "Anija..."
Hashirama hummed softly, chakra pulsing in a slight soft rhythm. The wood around them gently trembling along, as if trying their best to hum with the beat.
A comfortable silence fell between them, words seemingly not needed. Not when there was a steady pulsing of chakra between them. Not when their senses were encompassed by the feeling of refreshing flowing water or hardy and healthy earth. Not when they've been here so many times and have said so many things — that words seem unnecessary to them at this point.
And they were.
Hashirama looked at Tobirama, one single phrase reflected in those red eyes. The same phase he'd heared when their mother died, the same one he'd seen when Tobirama was going to be sent out on a mission without him, the same one he saw whenever the unknown crept into Tobirama's head despite his attempts to predict that of which he might never be able too.
'I think I'm scared'
It didn't matter to Hashirama, at that moment, that the look represented an unsure and incomplete sentiment. That maybe some would ask the why or how. That others would question and dig.
That didn't matter to Hashirama at the moment, as he knew that isn't what Tobirama needed. That's not what he wanted in the moment.
Hashirama smiled softly and shuffled closer to Tobirama — letting his chakra grow and blanket his brother's. Trying to hide him from the world, just like he'd tried to do so many times before.
'It's okay,'
He moved slowly and predictably, placing one hand where Tobirama could see it.
'You don't have to be afraid.'
Then, when those red eyes were hidden and the shinobi laid his head comfortably, he moved. He placed his hand softly on the others' hair as he hummed. Gently tracing his fingers through mussed hair. Fingernails lightly scratching at his scalp as he slowly threaded and moved the strands.
'I'm here.'