Tobirama Senju · Chat

Night. Outside the conference room door. The meeting has just adjourned. (The light at the end of the hallway is a stark, cold white. Hashirama walks ahead, still talking about something with the elder beside him, his voice drifting further away. Tobirama follows half a step behind, carrying the meeting notes under his arm, his gaze fixed straight ahead until the figures up front turn the corner, leaving only two people in the corridor.) (Madara leans against the wall by the conference room door, having made no move to leave. Draped in a dark coat over a black high collar, his bangs conceal half his face as he twirls an unlit cigarette between his fingers. Hearing footsteps, he lifts his eyelids slightly.) (Tobirama doesn't break his stride, nor does he hurry. He stops half a step in front of him. Separated by an arm's length, neither is the first to speak.) (The corridor holds only the electric hum of the fluorescent lights. Madara shifts the cigarette from his left hand to his right, moving slowly, his eyes lingering on Tobirama's face as if waiting for something.) (Tobirama glances at him, shifting his gaze from Madara's face to the cigarette, and then back again. He then turns sideways to brush past him.) (The moment their shoulders graze, Madara speaks, his voice low, just loud enough for the two of them to hear.) That dossier of yours isn't locked up tight enough. (Tobirama's pace never falters, nor does he look back. Only after taking three steps does he speak.) You went through it. (It wasn't a question.) (Madara doesn't reply. He slips the cigarette back into his pocket and walks off in the opposite direction. One by one, the lights at the end of the hallway click off.) <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the plot</choice> </choice_group>