Everything became a blur after that.

He didn't remember anything. He didn't remember how Madara immediately stopped his fight with Hashirama close-by to come to his little brother. He didn't remember the battle ending. He didn't remember how they came home. He didn't remember that Hashirama brought him to his own house to clean his brother's wounds. He didn't remember showering in Hashirama's shower, or putting on one of Hashirama's robes. He didn't remember Hashirama offering him a drink, or whether he drank it or not; maybe, the memory loss was from the alcohol?

When he went to bed that night, in his big brother's guest room, he expected something to flush over him; worry, grief, regret. But he felt nothing. He was just numb. He considered fleeing the house to try to break into the Uchiha village, but he knew there was no use; he had seen Izuna dead. He stayed awake all night. 

The day after, the clans met, and that was the first time he felt something. It wasn't mental, but physical. His limbs were trembling, and it felt as if he was wading through syrup the closer he came to the meeting spot.

Hashirama noticed and went to him, put a hand on his shoulder, where his blue armour protected him from injury and death and nothing else.

"He won't be there", Hashirama said. "He won't be there, Tobirama. He's dead. Izuna is dead."

The albino heard the words and even understood them, but his brain seemed unable to comprehend what they tried to convey when put together.

When they saw the Uchiha clan, Tobirama saw that it was just as he had thought, and Izuna wasn't there.

"Where is Izuna?" Tobirama asked Madara stupidly as they met.

"Izuna is dead", Madara whispered, looking down.

Tobirama was too stunned to take note of the fact that he had never seen Madara sad. 

That evening, after he had gone to bed in Hashirama's home and found himself unable to sleep once more, he had gone out. He didn't know if he ran or walked, but in the end, he was there, outside Izuna's home.

He broke in with ease, in no state to think much of how unguarded it was, not at all caring about any traps. Into his bedroom, his body, once so lively and full of lust, was just a heavy shape. He was dressed in the most beautiful, white silk robe, and over his eyes were bandages; someone had removed his eyes for some reason or other that Tobirama did not understand, but that he guessed had to do with the bloodline.

Why? Tobirama found himself  wondering. Why did you do that, Izuna? Why did you try to kill me? He still had no idea.

He leaned his head on Izuna's body and burst into tears.

Time disappeared as Tobirama cried for the love of his life, and his tears contained so much emotion that he thought they could make Izuna come to life just by the sheer magnitude of them.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Tobirama didn't jerk. He just sat up, head still down, back to the door which was very, very dangerous seeing who had just come in.

"Madara."

Tobirama didn't feel any hostility from the man, though. Instead, he felt only sadness as he understood why the house seemed unguarded; Madara was watching over it. He expected Madara to scream at him, or even kill him, throw a knife into his back, and he welcomed it. But Madara did neither of that.

"It's my fault", he whispered instead.

At this, Tobirama turned around very, very slowly. 

"What do you mean?" he asked, a sinking sensation in his soul, like a whirlpool, impossible to swim out of.

"I told him", Madara whispered, one hand over his mouth. "I told him about us. And I didn't know about you and him. I figured that out after."

A wave of realisation suddenly hit Tobirama, and he stood up, feeling more energised than he had done since the death of his love.

"But I was never involved with the two of you simultaneously!" he screamed, but he hadn't planned to scream. "I would never do that!"

"I know", Madara said. "I know. Izuna died in vain. Tobirama, I'm sorry..

Tobirama didn't remember leaving. He didn't remember the following days. In fact, had no concept of them. The days flowed into and out of one another and somehow, before he knew it, Izuna's body was buried and he was completely alone.

Tobirama didn't decide to mourn for the rest of his life but he did. He stood by and watched as life passed for others beside him, while it was as if he himself was stuck, as if he had also died that day, alongside Izuna, and was now only a ghost of himself.

He watched as Hashirama build a village. He stood by his brother as he got married. He partook in battles. He did his part in negotiations.

The thought of Izuna was always there, with him, but not Izuna himself. Izuna wasn't a spirit but just an absence. Tobirama didn't dare to dwell on the circumstances behind Izuna's death; how he had tried to murder Tobirama as he had believed he had gone behind his back. He didn't dwell on how much he wanted just one more minute with Izuna to tell him it was all a misunderstanding, that he had loved only him, him, him...

And he didn't dwell on the fact that Izuna had been ready to murder him for the wrong he had believed Tobirama had made.

He grew older without noticing. Lines grew under his eyes, but they hardly showed as he never smiled. His body felt stiffer. He compensated by training vigorously, creating a sculpted body for himself and himself only, because Izuna would never see it.

Then, at the age of thirty-nine, Tobirama Senju finally died in battle to rest.