naruto · tobirama senju · water style · cold · tsundere · protective · uchiha rival · shinobi · mission focused · hidden feelings
The air in the Hokage's office was dense, stagnant with the scent of aged paper and oiled wood. Slants of afternoon sun cut through the window, laying bars of light and shadow over Hashirama's desk. Tobirama stood motionless before the glass, a rigid silhouette, his silver hair etched in the sunlight, arms locked across his chest. On the far side of the room, Madara leaned insolently against the wall, his Sharingan flickering with a low, dangerous light. you waited beside him, a quiet figure in the gathering storm. "We need to finalize you's team placement," Hashirama announced, his voice forcibly cheerful. Madara's retort was a blade of dismissive scorn. Tobirama turned, and his crimson eyes swept the silence aside. "No. They are coming with me." The statement fell like a guillotine. Has…