The Dream Team
We're back, bitches.

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Tobirama was fifty shades of done. It literally wasn't even funny anymore—one would think that after being dead for a century or so coming back to life would be some kind of reprieve from the nothingness.

But no. It was the fucking worst, and he suspected it was because all those years of pent up stupidity were taking their sweet time to spew out of his brother like a cannon filled with vomit.

For god's sake he was dressed as a woman.

Not to mention that the entire village had gone to the dogs—like, what even was this "organic" produce bullshit?

So as he sat down at the nearly empty bar at two in the afternoon, having just witnessed a mob of angry women chase down some poor kid, he tipped back a bottle of sake into his awaiting mouth.

Maybe it was this, he thought wonderingly, savoring the strong taste of the drink. Maybe this was the point of coming back to life—not to cater to that long haired weakling Orochimaru or the unnecessarily demanding young Uchiha bastard, but this—to get completely wasted in the middle of the day.

And strangely enough, he was okay with tha—

"Heeey there, pretty lady," a drunk, sunglasses wearing man breathed against Tobirama's ear in a gross attempt at seduction, the scent of whiskey heavy on his breath. "M' name's Ebisu, and I don't believe we've met before, but may I just say that you have fine, fine ass…"

The hand against his back slid down with the intention of copping a feel, and even gently tipsy, Tobirama's fingers wrapped like a vice around this "Ebisu's" throat, squeezing him into unconsciousness before tossing him aside like rag doll.

Chugging the rest of the bottle of sake and slamming the container down, he got up, tossed some coins down, and mumbling obscenities, stalked out of the bar.

But it was when, stepping into the mid-afternoon sunlight, a male passerby wolf whistled that Tobirama knew that fifty was far too small a number. He was precisely fifty thousand shades of done, and they'd all be punched into Hashirama's face when he got a hold of him.

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notes: for gin, her broships, and her organic-loving, AP class taking gajeel that warms my heart. and for les because tobirama is better than her. review?