Work Text:
The world slowly comes into focus before Madara’s papery eyes. His body feels like—or rather, his body doesn’t feel anything at all. He looks around the parlor of the house he inhabited with his husband for nearly forty years with a sudden pang of melancholy. Everything is more or less as he left it.
How long has it been since he died?
His eyes settle on Hashirama, who sits cross-legged on the tatami in front of him, his eyes wide with too many emotions to name. It takes a few moments for the missing pieces to settle into place in Madara’s mind, and he all at once understands how he got here.
“I thought you forbade that jutsu,” are the first words out of Madara’s mouth. Sensing no immediate danger, he sits on the floor.
Hashirama smiles and scoots closer. “I did, but this…it’s important.”
“Are you going to use me as a suicide bomber?” Madara isn’t exactly adverse to the idea, but it does annoy him a bit to be used like that.
“Not at all. The war is over.”
“Oh.” Gazing around the room, Madara sees that Hashirama has acquired many trinkets in the time since Madara’s passing, things Madara would have never allowed in his house had he been alive. He scrunches his nose at a vase shaped like a mushroom, perhaps the single ugliest thing Madara has seen in all his years of living (and of being dead). “How long has it been?”
“A little over six months.” Tears gather in Hashirama’s eyes. He reaches for Madara’s cold hands. “I’ve missed you so much, beloved.”
Madara allows himself a small, rueful smile. “I’ve missed you, too, but don’t be in any hurry to join me. You really shouldn’t have brought me back just because you missed me.”
Hashirama looks the slightest bit guilty. “Oh, I didn’t bring you back just for that.”
“So there is something you need.” Concern grows in the pit of Madara’s stomach. Hashirama had staunchly opposed this jutsu all those decades ago when Tobirama created it. There must be dire circumstances at play for him to resort to edo tensei.
“There is,” Hashirama affirms, looking down at their joined hands. He lets go a few seconds later to caress Madara’s face, pushing the hair away from his eyes as he leans in to press their lips together. Then, he kisses Madara’s forehead, cheeks, and nose. “I’ve missed you terribly.”
“Well?” Madara prompts. Best to get it over with. “For what purpose have I been summoned back to the world of the living?”
Hashirama takes a deep breath. Mouth pinching into a thin line, his eyes water. He wipes them on the back of his sleeve. His voice shakes as he speaks. “Do you remember where I put that coupon book we were given on New Years? I remember there were some pretty good deals in it, and I think they expire at the end of the year.”
It takes Madara’s brain a minute or two to process this request. “The coupon book that… Hashirama!” His hand flies out to smack the back of Hashirama’s head. Although it makes Hashirama yelp in pain, Madara’s undead body doesn’t register the sting. “You can’t—You don’t just—This is a forbidden jutsu.”
He smacks Hashirama again for good measure.
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Hashirama offers as a weak defense. “This was a last resort, and I wasn’t even sure if it would work. Tobirama’s notes are really hard to read, and—”
“Enough!” Madara storms out of the room. He returns a minute later with Hashirama’s precious coupon book. With restraint Madara didn’t realize he possessed (in either life or death), he refrains from throwing it at Hashirama’s head. He tosses it onto the tatami in front of him instead. “Happy?”
Hashirama’s face lights up as he picks it up and flips through the coupons. “O-ho! Yes, these will do nicely. Thank you, my love!”
Madara huffs. “Whose body did you sacrifice for this jutsu to work?”
Hashirama waves a hand. “Some war criminal. No biggie.”
Although he grumbles under his breath, Madara isn’t one to condone such actions. He killed too many people in his lifetime to cast judgment. “Wonderful. Now, send me back to the Pure Lands.”
Hashirama sets the coupon book aside. “But you just got here.”
“And I’ve served my purpose.”
“And now we can spend some quality time together. Surely you want to know what I’ve been up to all this time.” Hashirama throws an arm around Madara’s shoulders. “After all the effort it took to bring you here, I’m not letting you go just like that.”
Such a ridiculous man.
Madara loves him more than anything.