Madara doesn't know what disembodied entity is forcing him to listen because he's currently listening to Tobirama's endless one-sided conversation about oboes of all things. This is probably because Madara is literally stuck with Tobirama as his lab partner for the rest of the semester. That or until Tobirama dies. Madara fingers the pipette in his hand way too slimy and my god, it's a pipette, how much damage is that going to do to someone smart and he thinks about it sooner or later. “Can you believe that?” Tobirama hits his stirring rod on the scratch-resistant table top and hearing a few cracks, Madara watches his hand warily through the blurry film of his glasses, heading to the left so he doesn't have to watch over the inevitable shattering of glass. "I mean, God. Don't people know respect or something? How can you - " slams his fist again, shaking the already bruised three and a half foot table, " steal a oboe, the loneliest, let go -boring instrument and undead next to the piccolo (Madara starts tut-tuttering because Izuna plays the piccolo and an insult to his brother might as well be an insult to him ) right before a concert? Relax a little, you could just borrow. Not like they're going to kill you or anything" Madara thinks about the sharing part, staring at the glass wand that will soon shatter. Tobirama hasn't really moved like he should have in the last twelve minutes since the lab started. under debate. Tobirama may seem like the jovial type, but Madara saw him engage in a few attacks on upperclassmen thugs a few weeks ago. Madara frowns like he's an Edwardian guy, tough and sturdy looking, who wobbles so much. a lot of girls in there give an idea of ​​his brother's fan base. Killing would only compliment...... middle of paper ......ll (hey, maybe the info could actually get out but very doubtful) erased flatfish on a widely spread page. Have nightmares about this, Tobirama. And maybe what appears to be a main office is heading his way, at least the glass wand is vying for the lowest spot in Madara's list of a thousand worries right now. When the bell rings about twenty-three minutes later, Madara saunters past Tobirama, drooling an ocean amidst the scientific paraphernalia and his incomplete lab report which – fingers crossed – with any luck, will arrive thirty minutes in late in her next period. And not waking up wearily earlier than expected due to the clamor of lunch or his friends locating him and dropping bullets into their friend's state or whatever. Madara doesn't look behind him and he knows his behavior is very, very cold. Worthy of a vendetta, he finds out later.