MadaTobi OneShots

'Where I belong.'

AU.  Tobirama was adopted into the clan.  He doesn't know who he is until years later. 

Tobirama let out a shaky breath and put his head into his hands,  his clawed fingers digging into his hair. He took a shaky inhale and grit his sharp teeth. His scaled and furry tail twitching,  curling  arround him.  He was sitting against a tree,  trying to calm himself. He curled on himself  and tried to make hinself as small as possible.  Monster.  His clan had called him. A white demon.  That's all he is. That's all he ever was.  Raised as a killer,  raised to have no have no mercy.  He was always different from his brothers.  Them.  Bright,  cheereful,  tan,  bright chakra.  Him? Pale,  cold,  anti-social.  Some call him cruel and emotionless... He wonders if it isn't really true. His clawed,unnatural toes curled on his feet.  His feet.  No longer human.  Shaped  like  that of a cat.  Slander with more joints then usual.  Perfect for running. He took another shaky breath and his hand made contact with the horns sprouting from the side of his head.  Three on each side. Largest more in the middle.  The horns beeing shorter as they go lower.  There is another small pair hidden with his hair too.  His face,  arms,  hands,  legs and feet were scaled.  His body covered in strange red marks.  Three lines on his face.  The rest covered in tribal-like marks. He shivered in the cold,  bringing his bare feet closer.  The snow under him was cold,  himself having fled in his usual clothes.  Blue kimono-shirt with a mesh shirt underneath.  Pale yellow obi and dark  blue pants,  his kunai pouch had been left at home.  The bandages arround his ankles were soaked wet.  the marks on his shoulders and arms were exposed.  Two diamond outlines arround a red dot, the marks framed by red outlines,  swirling in elegant and sharp swirls down his arms.  The snow was falling, slowly becoming thicker and thicker.  Blizzard was arround the corner and he was most likely to freeze to death in a few hours.  Maybe even long before the blizzard.

He was miles away when he felt his presence,  he curled on himself more,  hoping that the older man would just pass by.  Leave him be.  But he was only getting closer and he just wanted to shrink on himself more and more.  He peered from under his arms, feeling the older man's rush of emotions as he laid his eyes on him,   shock following after weariness. Red,  pupilless eyes avoided the sharingan.  Looking anywhere but at the man.  Not becouse of the dojutsu,  becouse he was afraid of the other's judgement.  Remembering the clear shock and fear on his own brother's face,  how he had ran away from Hashirama,  the older not following nor calling out to him. Touka had.  She had called him to cone back,  but he didn't.  Not after his own brother expressed such obvious fear.  The elders were gleeful when they saw him flee. Happy that they got rid of him. The demon.  'Shiroma' they had called him.  Butsuma had gived him the name Tobirama but they had never called him that.  No. Shiroma.  White demon.  He desparadly tried to curl on himself more. Madara still haven't moved,  still haven't yelled,  attacked not even stepped closer.

"You're cold... "

Tobirama blinked at the sentence, the man's voice was calm.  Not judgemental.  Not scared.

"What's it to you?"

He had meant it to sound like his usual tone,  but what cane out was something akin to a whimpered growl.
He flinched at the sound of it,  his voice was raspy,  obviously getting sick. 

Madara frowned,  stepping closer,  crouching in front of the younger who looked like he just wanted to dig a hole and stay in there for the rest of his life.  His eyes trailed over the marks and scales,  the tail,  the horns,  the strange and clawed hands before stopping at the man's covered head. He felt something in him snap when he saw the younger's expression.  Madara knew very well what he was,  and he was clearly shocked he looked more like he had just been thrown out of his clan rather then celebrated like he would be if he were an Uchiha.  A dragon. That's what he is.  He placed his hands on the younger man's wrists.  Gently rubbing circles over the glittery white scales.  He felt the other tense, saw confusion and fear in his eyes.  He looked at the young man's tail,  which was tucked arround him protectivly, the snow white scales glistening,  blending in with the snow arround them,  the white fur at the end and back of the tail was soaked wet.  He looked at the younger's face again.