Preface

Founders Oneshots
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/45365974.

Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories:
Gen, M/M
Fandom:
Naruto
Relationships:
Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Hikaku/Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Hikaku, Senju Itama/Original Uchiha Character(s)
Characters:
Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama, Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna, Uchiha Hikaku, Senju Butsuma, Senju Kawarama, Uzumaki Mito, Uchiha Kagami, Senju Itama, Senju Touka
Additional Tags:
Oneshot collection, Fluff and Angst, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Child Abuse, Bad Parent Senju Butsuma, Arranged Marriage, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Uchiha Izuna Lives, Time Travel, Crack Treated Seriously, Marriage Hunt, Dubious Consent, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, Trans Uchiha Izuna, Red Eyes Are Blessed by Amaterasu (Naruto)
Language:
English
Stats:
Published: 2023-02-27 Completed: 2024-09-19 Words: 44,991 Chapters: 36/36

Founders Oneshots

Summary

Unconnected oneshots/drabbles about the founders, archived from tumblr.

Chapters 36: Touka saves a life

Notes

[Hashirama] Childhood

Chapter Notes

Hashirama takes the bellow of rage as an excuse to abandon his paperwork.

It's not like such a thing is uncommon these days, when Madara and Tobirama work together as closely as they do, but his eyes are getting tired from reading trade agreements and it's as good a reason to take a break as any.

His brother's office and the location of the sound is just a few steps down the hall. It takes takes Hashirama less than a moment to understand what's got his friend fuming this time.

Madara, head of the Uchiha clan, is covered head to toe with sparkly silver glitter, clutching a crumpled seal tag in one fist. In the corner, Izuna is hunched over on himself, wheezing with poorly suppressed laughter. Which doesn't actually mean Madara isn't about to start killing anyone, but it's a good sign.

"Oh, wow Madara." He says, purposefully blithe "When did you get a taste for fashion?"

"I hope you die." Madara turns on him with a snarl, "You and your brother both."

"I told you not to touch that." Tobirama says evenly, not even looking up from some scroll on his desk, "It's really only your own fault."

"No. You said it was none of my concern. That's --" Madara cuts himself off with another wordless growl of rage, and Hashirama loses the fight to keep his lips from twitching up.

"Aww. Think of it this way Madara, at least this way we won't lose you in a crowd."

For a moment, Madara looks like he really is about to start a fight, but he's cut off by a quiet snort, and then… Laughter. Not Izuna's, but Tobirama's, muffled behind a hand, and he's clearly trying to fight it off the way his shoulders are shaking, but his brother is laughing, and Hashirama can't help but stare because he can't remember the last time he heard that. Not in years, not since before Itama, if not Kawarama --

Madara is shocked too, staring with wide eyes. He recovers faster, remembering he's supposed to be angry and spinning on his heel to scatter glitter over as much of Tobirama's office as he can as he leaves with a huff.

"...Wow." Izuna says breathlessly after a moment, "Honestly. Glitter, Senju? That's cruel even for you."

Tobirama sniffs in response, though he's still clearly fighting off a smile.

"Not glitter." He says, "Modified flash powder. It won't hurt him, but he's in for a hell of a surprise the next time he uses a katon."

"...Which he's going to do right now. He always goes to the training fields when you piss him off!" The younger Uchiha jumps to his feet, "Oh I've got to see that."

"Make sure you catch his face with your sharingan if you really want this to be worth it." Tobirama waves him off, and Hashirama has to take a step back to give Izuna the space to bolt past.

(Madara's face was glorious, Izuna will report with glee later, but the yelp he'd made as he'd started sparking had really been something special)

Hashirama watches for a moment as his younger brother shakes his head and returns to work, as though covering Madara with flammable glitter was just an expected part of his day.

"A prank, otouto?" He steps forward to lean on Tobirama's desk, making sure to keep his voice light and non-accusatory. "Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you."

For some reason, Tobirama looks up at him as though he's the one being confusing.

"What do you mean?" He says, "I used to…" With his expression still so unusually open, Hashirama can see melancholy slip over the amusement, "Ah. I suppose you always blamed Kawarama for those things, didn't you?"

And...Oh. There's the familiar ache in his chest. Hashirama didn't expect to remember, today, how one of Kawarama's biggest joys had been to play pranks. He hadn't known Tobirama had ever gotten involved -- had always assumed his most straight laced little brother would have nothing to do with such things. But then, that would have been the perfect cover, and he'd been so close with Kawarama that he must have been dragged into a scheme or two, at least.

How was he still discovering all these years later, things that he'd lost when his brothers had died -- oh and this one was worse, because it was something Tobirama had lost that Hashirama hadn't even known was there to lose. Tobirama was the last family he had left, and yet so often, Hashirama was reminded how little he knew him at all.

But today, somehow, for some reason, a little part of him revealed itself again, even if it had come at the cost of a little bit of Madara's dignity. It should be a happy occasion, and so Hashirama doesn't go digging for answers.

Well, at least not unhappy answers -- after a moment he blinks and stands up straight.

"Tobirama." He says, "Tell me you're not the one who hid razor wire in my hairbrush."

People still taunted him with the bowl cut he'd given himself to hide what had happened to this day.

Beside him, Tobirama goes very still.

"Well, Anija." he says after a moment, "I don't want to lie to you."

And promptly disappears to some hirashin marker out of Hashirama's reach.

Perhaps of everything that's happened today, the most unexpected of all is how Hashirama has now found himself alone in the tower in the middle of the workday. He shakes his head with a chuckle, and just... Takes a moment.

No, he doesn't think he'd regret making this village for anything.

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#thinking about the senju siblings loving each other but not actually knowing each other at all makes me crazy!! hi!!
#like just . ough. augh
#hashirama kinda assuming that tobirama never really was a child bc he never got the chance
#but to tobirama those tiny moments of childhood he DID have are actually some of his most precious memories.
#you know. just shit like that.

[Tobirama] Misunderstandings

Chapter Notes

The dirt is cold under his fingers, but that's not the only thing making Tobirama hesitate to start digging.

He knows that his jutsu works -- he would never use anything on his brothers without rigorous testing. The animals he'd brought back had all behaved as they should. The man had been… Confused. But he'd reported that he felt no pain or fatigue

He hadn't even realize he'd died, had thought Tobirama had miraculously healed him. But then, his death had been fresh.

It's been much longer for Kawarama and Itama.

'Are you at peace, now?' He wonders, and not for the first time, 'Do you finally have a chance to rest?'

For days his chest has been heavy with uncertainty, though he knows better than to let that show by now.

He has the chance to have his brothers back, and he's not exited. He's terrified.

Is it pure selfishness for him to bring his baby brothers back from whatever peace they have in the afterlife and into the world that hurt them so badly? Would they understand why he did it? Would they forgive him?

He isn't sure.

Tobirama knows by now, that his older brother is not wiser than him in all, or even most things. But when it comes to people's hearts there is no one who's judgement he trusts more.

He wants his brothers back. He wants this awful, terrible decision he's created for himself to be taken out of his hands. He goes to Hashirama.

It's only a few minutes after sunrise when he reaches the main house and at this hour Hashirama will be rising and making his morning tea.

Tobirama almost considers waiting to have this conversation in the clan head's office. It's easier there, to fall into a role, to separate himself from what he's done. But this isn't about clan, this is about family, so he smooths out his clothes as best he can and pads across the floor to join his brother across from the chabudai.

Hashirama smiles at him, delighted and surprised at his presence before taking in the state in which he's arrived and sighing.

"Ah, trouble sleeping last night, otouto?"

"Yes." Tobirama says, because if it's obvious enough to be seen there's no point in denying it to Hashirama. He takes as steadying of a breath as he can without revealing his unease, and reaches for the scroll "I… Have a new justu."

He sets it on the table and doesn't let his fingers twitch as Hashirama rolls it open. It's not all his notes, but it's everything he needs to perform what he's created.

It's not enough for Hashirama to understand it, though, at least not at a glance. His older brother squints and brings the scroll closer to his face, and before he can make a comment about the cramped handwriting Tobirama blurts out, "It can bring back the dead."

Hashirama drops the scroll as if it's burned him, whipping his head up to look at him with wide eyes.

He looks… Horrified, and maybe that answers his question already, but something in his stomach twists and Tobirama wants to… He doesn't know, defend himself at least, so he says, "Those brought back don't feel any pain --"

"No." Says Hashirama and that’s -- that's Hashirama at his most serious, every bit of playfulness gone, the God of Shiobi, "Tobirama, you are never to use this justsu. Don't work on it anymore, don't talk about it to anyone. It is forbidden. Do you understand?"

"Not --" Not even twice? Is what he wants to ask, but Hashirama cuts him off with, "Never. Do you understand, Tobirama?"

He lets out a slow breath.

It was wrong, after all. He's not sure if he feels relived or disappointed or just… Empty.

"I understand." He says. Keeps his eyes down. Misses the way Hashirama looks like he doesn't quite believe him.

Chapter End Notes

Tags from the original post:

#i dont even know where to BEGIN with my thoughts on this like ough
#hashirama thinking tobirama has no moral boundaries
#when in fact those moral boundaries are what made tobirama go to him!!
#plus you know i love the idea that tobirama conceived of edo tensei to bring back his brothers
#and he either wanted to make sure they woudnt suffer again
#or couldnt justify making it to himself without also making it a weapon
#and even though hashirama misunderstands why tobirama made it and thinks the worst! hes not wrong!
#if the senju get known as the clan who can have an army of the dead they are FUCKED!
#just arrrhg arg argh argh argh biting them biting them biting them

[Hikaku] Sharingan

Chapter Notes

It's not taboo, exactly, to ask an Uchiha how they awoke their sharingan for exactly, but it is rude.

They'll tell you if they want you to know, that's the phrase mothers tell their children, that outsiders tell each other when they're trying to figure out how not to offend. It's a good rule of thumb, when the reasons why are so often traumatic.

Some people, though, proudly repeat the stories of how they woke up their eyes with sheer determination, used them to do something heroic.

Hikaku has never told his story, and he never will, because in of a clan full of tragedies and dramatic tales, his is more than a little embarrassing.

It was because of a cat.

It's a classic story, maybe a little cliched, but he'd been walking home from the training grounds -- he'd been exhausted, had a bandage on his hand from where he'd scrached it with a kunai, and when he'd heard the laughter, he was going to ignore it and keep walking.

But then it was followed by a hiss and a yowl and he'd turned to follow it.

There were three older boys, laughing and chatting and practicing throwing kunai at a cat that they'd had pinned against the wall.

(With the perfect memory of them that he has, Hikaku knows that the kids can't have been much older than him, but back then it'd felt like they were so much bigger.)

He remembers thinking that they were being cruel, that it was unfair and pointless to pick on something that couldn't defend itself like that. Remembers demanding that they stop, remembers that they laughed and taunted him and asked why didn't he make them. And he'd known that he couldn't, had already started to learn how important it was that shinobi pick the right moment to strike, and this wasn't it.

He remembers the way one of them had thrown their kunai, remembers how he knew it was going to fly true. And he remembers, in perfect, red shaded clarity, how he'd thought it was moving slow enough for him to deflect. So he had.

The other boys hadn't known it was the first time he'd activated his sharingan, they'd only cared that he'd ruined their fun, which meant their remaining knives were aimed at him.

Also easily deflected. And with him between the threat and itself the cat bolted. Had Hikaku been braver, he would have stayed and fought, but he was a kid who was outnumbered and overwhelmed and in training to be a shinobi, so he bolted, too. Ran until he got back home, in front of witnesses that it would be stupid to hurt him in front of.

(The boys are dead now, all three of them gone in different battles. And whenever he remembers them Hikaku can't help but think of that as pointless, too.)

He'd looked for the cat for days, after that, and when he'd found it, it had been limping -- a crusted over old wound on its flank. And he'd wanted to help, but when he tried he'd earned a second scratch on his hand before the cat bolted and he couldn't find it again.

It was just a cat, he'd remind himself for years after the fact. An animal, one that he couldn't expect to care about him in return. It was also a first lesson, he'd decide later, on how to give someone everything and expect nothing back.

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#this is about me reading the databook and seeing it calling him the most talented uchiha
#and going oh shit wait what if he was kinda like itachi
#ie: a genius who doesn't want to fight but is raised to do it and is really good at it
#super loyal (to his clan since the village doesnt exist)
#(something something in love with madara but he never says a word and its never acknowledged etc etc)

[Hashirama] Father

Chapter Notes

Content warning for child abuse and violence in this one.

It's a beautiful spring evening when Hashirama decides that he needs to kill his father.

 

When his legs give out for the fifth time, Hashirama isn't able to force himself up again.

To say chichiue had been unhappy with what had happened at the Naka River would be an understatement. Hashirama had kept his head bowed through a long, long lecture, insisted over and over that he hadn't known because ignorance might be the only thing that could save him.

Punishment has been brutal, regardless. He's been taking his smaller than usual meals alone in his room, and even those have been more sparse than usual, because every waking has been consumed with ceaseless training.

"When you see that boy on the battlefield, you'll kill him."

Hashirama shudders and turns his face into the dirt. He won't, and that will probably end up worse for him than this, but that still isn't enough to make him willing to do it.

(Madara was like him. Madara wanted peace. Peace could mean that no one would be forced to do something like this ever again).

For the moment, though, Hashirama can't get his legs to cooperate. Today he'd been training his mokuton ('until you have enough wood to rebuild the whole compound twice over'), and he'd tried, he always tries, but he's never, not in his life, been this low on chakra before. The lack of it makes him feel dizzy and nauseous and cold, seems to amplify all the aches and pains of the last few days. He'd pulled a splinter out of his hand earlier and the spot has been aching and stinging for hours when normally he would have forgotten about it minutes after it happened.

He's exhausted and miserable, and his eyes are burning with unshed tears because letting them fall will mean he probably doesn’t even get to eat tonight. He's already going to be in trouble enough for falling again--

"Boy, you better not be taking a break." Butsuma's voice calls, far away at first but getting louder, "You're not even halfway done."

Hashirama's voice catches in his parched throat -- he's got no idea whether it'll be safer for him to admit the truth or make an excuse. Before he can decide, his brother's voice chimes in, and oh he hadn't even known Tobirama was here.

"Chichiue, he's low on chakra." It's said so matter-of-fact that Hashirama can't tell if he's being judged for it or not. But he's really not the happiest with Tobirama right now and in a poor mood anyways so all he feels at the comment Is a spike of anger harsh enough to send the tears he's been hold back spilling down his cheeks.

Why did you have to tell him that? Why do you keep ruining things?

Butsuma clicks his tongue.

"Shameful. But low chakra is not a reason for him to be on his back. Or crying."

Hashirama can only see the purpling sky, but he can hear the sneer in his father's voice.

"I just don't know what to do with you, boy. Maybe a real punishment is in order. To start with, no meals until you're done with this."

Hashirama stifles a sob. Fuck, but he's hungry. There's a heavy sigh from his father, but it's Tobirama's voice he hears next.

"Chichiue, is that… Wise?"

There is a heavy pause; Hashirama musters the strength to lift his head and is treated to a sight he wishes wasn't familiar. Tobirama's thin back is between him and Butsuma. His arms are crossed this time, but Hashirama knows his intent. His little brother trying to protect him, again.

This is your fault in the first place! A wounded part of his heart screams, but already he feels guilty for the thought.

(How was Tobirama to know who he'd been meeting? How was he to do anything but worry when his brother kept disappearing so soon after their last one had died? How was he to say no to an order?)

"It's just --" Tobirama's voice is uncharacteristically hesitant, "Harsh training is well and good, but if he's not able to recover his strength then he won't be able to act should an emergency happen. Right now, he'd be useless in a battle."

There is a weighty silence, one that stretches on long enough that it makes Hashirama's heart flutter with hope -- maybe Tobirama's words have managed to convince him, again.

"I have no intention of letting him go to battle until I'm sure he's learned his lesson." Another pause, and then "…You're more troublesome than you let on, boy."

Those words aren't meant for Hashirama. Tobirama stiffens just enough to be perceptible, and if Hashirama can see it in the state that he's in, there's no way that Butsuma missed it.

"That's what I thought. Tobirama, on your knees. I think you both need to understand something."

Tobirama hesitates for the barest moment before sinking down, knowing better than to protest. Hashirama struggles to roll over enough to see what is happening. To see how Butsuma has knelt down across from Tobirama to grab his chin in a bruising grip, how Tobirama's hands are fisted tight in the fabric of his pants.

"When I teach you that shinobi aren't to show emotions, what I mean is that they can't let their feelings affect their decisions." He forces Tobirama's face to turn, to meet Hashirama's wide eyes with his own, "But if you had taken that lesson to heart you would have seen how much better off your brother would be if he understood. You may hide what you feel, but I can see now how much you let those feelings rule you. You'd rather spare your brother pain than have him grow stronger and survive."

Butsuma reaches for a pouch and with his other hand he draws out a kunai. Tobirama doesn't struggle as it's pushed to his cheek, but instead goes very, very still. Hashirama's stomach swoops -- he wouldn't, he wouldn't--

"And you, Hashirama… I don't know what to do about that bleeding heart of yours at this point. But you need to understand, if you're going to open yourself up to whatever poor kid with a sob story you meet in the woods you need to be strong enough to make certain that it can't hurt you."

He squeezes Tobirama's face, applies pressure. The kunai bites deep into his brother's cheek. Tobirama jerks in his hold, squeezes his eyes shut, and lets out an awful, warbled whine before cutting himself off.

"Stop." Begs Hashirama, voice breaking, He tries to push himself up only for his arms to give out from under him, "Stop it. Stop it!"

"If you want it to stop --" Says Butsuma, forcing Tobirama's face to turn the other direction and digging the kunai in to the other side, a perfect match to the first cut "-- Then stop me. Get strong enough to stop me."

But Hashirama can't stand up. There's no sudden burst of strength -- he used that up ages ago. All he can manage is to drag himself a few inches forward through the dirt, fingers just able to reach where a spot of blood (his brother's blood!) has been flung to the ground.

"Please." His voice is hoarse, "Please, I understand. Please stop."

The look Butsuma levels at him is cold, a frown that says he doesn't believe him.

He tilts up Tobirama's head, cuts a final slash into his chin, before letting go. Standing up, stepping back, uncaring of the way his son has dropped to the ground like a puppet with it's strings cut.

"Guard your heart or grow strong enough to keep it safe, Hashirama. Those are your options."

He turns, leaves them alone on the training field under a rapidly darkening sky. It's only when he's out of sight that Hashirama feels sensation return to his limbs, feels just how hard his heart is pounding. Hears the near silent drip of blood onto the ground from Tobirama --

His breath hitches but he can't lose his head yet, his brother, his last baby brother, still hasn't moved.

"Tobi." He calls roughly, but there's still no reaction, "Tobi. Tobirama!"

When he finally pulls himself close enough he reaches for his brother's hand, ignores the way it's trembling and sticky with blood (so much blood but it's fine, Tobirama has to be fine, head wounds just bleed more than most--). Only when he touches Tobirama does his brother react. Jerks away from him -- finally looks at him, but it's with eyes that are completely empty.

"We can't." Tobirama's voice is quiet. It cracks, but his little brother does not cry, even now, "He's waiting to see what we'll do."

Waiting to see if they'll turn to each other, he means.

"Tobi…" He calls, as Tobirama mechanically pushes himself to his feet, pulls his hand away. He wants to do something, needs to do something, to make this even a little okay, but he knows Tobirama is right, that if they try to help each other now the lesson will only repeat itself.

Tobirama shakes his head, walks towards the main house with his head ducked low, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

And Hashirama still can't force himself onto his feet to follow.

He falls back onto the dirt, throat tight. A few more tears spill out, but not many. He doesn't have anything left in him to cry.

He feels -- empty. He thinks he should be feeling more but all that's left behind his breastbone is hollow. And if he feels like this, than Tobirama must be…

He broke something, Hashirama thinks hysterically, He broke something in me and I think he might have broken Tobirama, too.

There's a bile building in the back of his throat as the realizations hit him. He can't let that happen again, won't survive if it does.

If you want to stop me, then stop me. Get strong enough to stop me.

That had been the lesson. Maybe Hashirama can finally learn this one.

The determination to build peace and a village had made him feel warm. The determination to do this settles like lead in his guts.

If any of his dreams are going to happen, he needs to get strong enough to stop his father.

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#this is inspired very much by that one comic where tbrm is like I behave like the perfect son so he will be surprised when i kill him
#look i just. like the idea of the senju sibs being the ones who killed butusma
#(sorrrry butsuma you are very easy to demonize for purposes such as these)
#btw. tbrms reasoning for trying to defend hsrm like that is the same. to me
#he sees hsrm fall. remembers who it was who sent his brothers out to die
#(which is a line i wanted to include in hsrms perspective but couldn't figure out where)
#and goes oh. actually the biggest threat to hashiramas life is butsuma. cant let That happen. maybe ill be self sacrificial about it
#if i had the stones (ideas) id write a whole story about these two plotting to kill their dad
#PS. ALSO. if tbrm and kawarma were twins do you wanna bet they got used as leverage against each other like this???? ARGH

[Tobirama]["""Tobi/Izu"""] Arranged Marriage

Chapter Notes

Tobirama sighed as Hashirama smoothed out his haori for what must have been the tenth time.

"I had always known I was going to marry for political reasons, anija. If it's in service of peace, it's as good as we could have hoped for."

Hashirama looked no less distressed at his reassurance, though Tobirama wasn't entirely sure why. It may have been that he was worried over his brother -- which was sweet, if tiresome -- or it may be that this peace wasn't coming about at all how he dreamed it.

It may be that he knew, or could guess, Tobirama's own dim view on the subject. That this peace would not last -- wasn't supposed to last.

Likely, he didn't believe that Tobirama himself wouldn't be it's downfall, which stung but was not an unfounded concern. If he was attacked, he would defend himself, and that would ruin everything just the same as if he had been out to break peace himself.

(He does want peace though, truly. He'd found it hard to believe in after their brothers had died, had often felt it pointless if they weren't there to enjoy it, but buried beneath those old walls and hurts the desire was still there. And now that peace was here, tenuous as it was, he would keep it.

Or at least he would try his best.)

"I wouldn't have made you" Hashirama protested, now having moved on to smoothing down his hair again. Tobirama knew he wouldn’t have, knew that in any other circumstance had he protested a match, Hashirama would have called it off. But this was hardly a normal circumstance.

At his silence, Hashirama sighed, "I'd always kind of hoped… Maybe you were some kind of secret romantic. I mean, with your soft spot for kids…"

Tobirama snorted. He would hardly call himself romantic, but he'd hoped whoever he married would be able to respect him. Maybe even come to understand him.

Izuna may be able to provide the former -- he wouldn't have survived against him so long on the battlefield if he didn't -- but any dreams he may have harbored for the latter were well and truly dead the moment the daimyo made his decision.

"Well, you know there's still a chance…" Hashirama dithered on, "After all, my marriage with Mito was arranged!"

As if he had forgotten. His brother smiled at him, brittle as it had been since this marriage was ordained.

"Who knows what the future may bring." Tobirama said flatly, though it seemed to appease his Hashirama well enough, as he finally pulled his hands back to himself.

Let Hashirama hope for the future if that helped him. Tobirama will look to the present. And right now, his goal is to make certain he and his clan get out of this nonsense alive.

Chapter End Notes

This is an alternate perspective of a scene from a fic that I haven't written yet. The fic isn't from Tobirama's POV, and I dont think i'm going to write it from his, either. So this... Goes here.

[Hikaku] [Mada/Hika/Tobi] A/B/O

Chapter Notes

In this au high status alpha/omega pairs often take a beta or two into their household to act as an assistant/handmaid/servant/etc etc. which is what Hikaku is doing here.

The moment Tobirama enters the room, Madara goes stiff. At a glance nothing seems wrong, and Tobirama pauses, seemingly as surprised at the reaction as Hikaku is.

A closer look shows Madara's pupils have blown wide, which means this is probably one of those instinctual things -- what's caused it though, Hikaku isn't sure. A deep breath of his own mostly gets him a nose full of Madara's overpowering campfire scent; if Tobirama's is doing anything different he doesn't know the man well enough to tell.

It's… A little saltier, maybe? Nothing so extreme that he couldn't chalk it up to a shift in emotion --

"You're in pre-heat." Madara blurts.

Oh. Well then.

The exclamation seems to have shocked all three of them. Tobirama's lips part for a moment before his expression tightens.

"Apologies." He says, "It's earlier than usual. I did not realize."

They probably should have expected this, all things considered. Tobirama may not be a typical omega, but spending so much time in the house with the alpha he had recently married and consummated with would wreak havoc on anyone's biology. Or so Hikaku has heard.

"Well, what do you -- I mean --" Madara sputters, color rising to his cheeks, "How do you want to handle it?"

There's a brief flash of surprise across Tobirama's face, one so small it would likely be missed by someone who's not an Uchiha, but it's there. Almost like he hadn't been expected to be asked.

"…I understand that I'm expected to bear your heirs." Tobirama says at length, "But if it is an option, I would like to wait to do so until after peace is more stable."

Until he knows they won't be born right back into another war. Madara nods, lets out a slow breath of his own.

(Breaths in through his mouth, Hikaku notices, but Tobirama's scent still seems so mild, to him).

"In that case, I think it's best if Hikaku takes care of you." Madara grunts.

Hikaku feels his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and wonders if Tobirama is looking at his clan head with a matching look of incredulity. What Madara's asking for isn't unheard of, but for a newly mated couple's first heat

"I'm not ordering you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." Madara clarifies, voice rising in pitch. His face has gone a lovely puce, but he doesn't take it back. "Either of you. Use your best judgement! But if we're trying to avoid… That, it shouldn't be me."

"…Right." Hikaku says, suddenly feeling dizzy. He's not actually ever experienced an unrelated omega's heat firsthand. He's heard plenty of stories, but all they're serving to do in this moment is leave him feeling woefully under-prepared.

But. He thinks with sudden clarity. Tobirama is hardly the kind of omega you hear about in stories. In cases like these it's best to just…

"Well then. Tobirama-san." He clears his throat and tries to fight off his own rising blush, "How do you want me to help?"

There's the twitch of an eyebrow again, the barely there surprise.

"Boil some water for tea and bring it to my rooms." Tobirama says after a moment. He hesitates where he stands in the doorway, and the silence stretches so long that it must mean that he wants to say something more, but some pride or embarrassment is stopping him.

Hikaku has already given in that he's not going to get out of this situation (this entire arrangement, really) with his pride unscathed, so he forces a smile and asks, "Would it be helpful for me to bring something that smells…" He nods at Madara, who is all but hiding behind his hair at this point. Like an alpha, he means, like Madara, like your mate.

Tobirama tilts his head in consideration, no trace of whatever had been stopping him, which meant this likely wasn't what he had been considering at all.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt." He says.

Madara gapes open mouthed for a moment before ducking his head.

"Okay. I can just…" Madara pulls off his haori, looks at it pensively for a moment before rubbing the fabric on his face and neck. Hikaku politely pretends not to notice the way Tobirama is watching with rapt attention.

Seeing as how Tobirama is across the room and how Madara appears to be entirely resistant to getting any closer, he hands the garment to Hikaku, who fights to keep himself from making a face as he folds it over his arm.

It would be a wildly inappropriate time to laugh. Still, the urge is there.

Tobirama clears his throat.

"That should be fine." He says, "You may also wish to bring a book."

He turns and flees back to his room before Hikaku can ask for clarification.

With the omega gone, Hikaku lets himself sigh. Quiet enough that it doesn't draw Madara's attention away from where Tobirama just left. He looks like he's about to vibrate out of his skin.

"…Madara-sama." He says tentatively, and those dark eyes snap to him, "Do you think you could handle a patrol, right now?"

It's one of the best ways he knows to help Madara get his instincts under control; letting him guard his territory and deem it safe. At the suggestion, his clan head all but shoots to his feet.

"Yes." Madara says, and now that the mortification has passed his voice is so low it's almost a growl. "I'm going to -- yes."

Hikaku looks down. He has plenty of reason to be blushing right now so if he is, it hardly matters. He swallows hard and reminds himself that this isn't about him.

Madara takes a step towards the front door, then another before pausing.

"…Good luck."

Madara, too, disappears out the door before Hikaku can formulate a response. With him gone, too, Hikaku groans and thumps his head against the table.

This is what you signed up for. He reminds himself, you knew this could happen.

The possibility had been there yes, but reality has him feeling so nervous that his hands are shaking when he forces himself up to boil the water for tea.

Hikaku scowls at them. Trained shinobi, and here he is getting shaky over the possibility of helping an omega through their heat. Tobirama is the omega in question, so he supposes some slack could be allowed, but still.

He only has until the water is boiling to dither around, then with another deep breath (and the room still smells mostly like Madara even now) he walks to where Tobirama is waiting for him, tea tray balanced on one hand, Madara's haori and book of poetry under the other arm-- which he's still got no clue about, but Tobirama suggested it and he's just --

He's just… Here to help, that's all.

Hands full as they are, it's awkward to rap on the door, but Hikaku manages, and also to maneuver it open when after a moment Tobirama calls, "Come in."

 

The pale omega is sitting cross legged on the floor, a series of tins open in front of him, the contents of which he appears to have meticulously measured and mixed together.

"You can set the tray here." Tobirama gestures to the floor in front of him, "And-- hm. You may as well put on the haori."

Hikaku does not allow himself to make a sound of surprise at that, but he knows his face must be burning scarlet.

He really, really hopes that Tobirama isn't going to ask him to pretend to be Madara. Still, he pulls the over-large garment over his shoulders and shakily falls to his knees to sit across from Tobirama.

This is not how he'd imagined he might end up with Madara's clothes on.

The herbal smell of whatever mixture Tobirama has put together is strong; it too almost overpowers the sea-salt scent of what must be the omega's pre-heat smell, and it only grows stronger when he opens the teapot and dumps it in to steep.

"I would offer you some, but I can reliably inform you that it tastes abysmal." Tobirama says without inflection. Hikaku blinks.

"I take it that it's medicinal?"

Tobirama nods.

"It helps shorten heats and lessens their symptoms, among other things."

Oh, well that's…

Hikaku feels some of the weight leave his shoulders. However this goes, he can at least take some relief in knowing it won't be as bad as it could have been.

They sit in silence as the tea steeps, and then as Tobirama pours a cup without giving Hikaku the chance to do it for him. That taken from him, all Hikaku can do is observe and try not to fidget.

Now that he's noticed it, that ocean-breeze smell is really starting to fill the room. It's not a bad scent, he decides. Objectively speaking.

When Tobirama finishes, he sets down his cup without making a sound. Hikaku forces himself to breath, to not allow himself to grow tense again, because surely that will make everything that comes next more difficult.

"My heats are usually quite mild." Tobirama says at last, "With this, I'm often able to ignore them entirely, except for how they cause others to behave. Though the fact that its come early may hint that something has changed, I don’t anticipate anything too extreme."

"…Okay." Says Hikaku, throat dry, "How do you want me to help?"

Tobirama blinks, and now that he's looking, Hikaku can see the way all of Tobirama's movement has gone just a little sluggish.

"Just…Hm. Sit on the futon, for now."

Mechanically, Hikaku nods and moves to sit at the head of the futon. It's got a few extra blankets on it, he notes, but not the huge amount he's heard to expect from a nest. Maybe this is all a utilitarian man like Tobirama needs?

Tobirama sits next to him after a moment, purses his lips.

"… Stay like that." He says.

So Hikaku does -- stays frozen in place as Tobirama all but drapes himself over Hikaku's lap, loops one arm loosely around his waist, buries his face near his side where the fabric of the haori is bunched together. The omega shifts. Gets comfortable. Sighs.

"Is it true that you can smell me in heat and not feel the instinct to do anything?"

"…Yes." Says Hikaku. He thinks so, at least, because he's still not entirely certain what people mean when they talk about having instincts like that, "When I smell you I just… Think it smells nice. That's all."

"…That seems useful." Comes Tobirama's voice after what feels like an age, muffled by fabric "To not be ruled by your urges."

"It has it's drawbacks." Hikaku admits, "I can't tell what a stranger is feeling through scent alone, and some social cues pass me by entirely."

There's a reason betas don't often enter the world of politics, after all. Entire conversations can be had just through scent.

"Hm." Is all Tobirama has to say in response to that, and then, "If you wish to pet my hair, feel free. Otherwise, I am going to nap."

"Oh." Says Hikaku blankly. "Alright."

For the moment, at least, there is no grinding or biting or leaking like Hikaku has heard often accompanies heats. Maybe if he doesn't draw attention to it, there wont be.

 

This, he supposes, is why Tobirama recommended him to bring a book. Which does come in handy, because the man is apparently content to lay like that for hours.

After the first, Hikaku works up the courage to run his hand through Tobirama's hair, just once. It's soft, and the man doesn't respond at all because he is well and truly asleep.

After the second, Hikaku's legs start to cramp, but he remains still. This is well within the realm discomforts he's to handle as a shinobi, after all, and less than he thought he'd be feeling today.

After the third, Tobirama rolls off of his legs and blinks up blearily at him.

"If you're invested in helping, you could consider telling Madara to stop stalking back and forth outside."

Madara was --?

Well, he had been doing it unobtrusively to anyone but one of the best sensors in the world. To have done a patrol of Uchiha lands in three hours, though… Hikaku hadn't thought him so eager to return.

 

He takes a moment to stretch out his legs before making for the door. When he slides it open, he's immediately hit by the smell -- not just a campfire but spicy, now too.

Hikaku hadn't recognized the change in Tobirama's smell, but he's known Madara long enough to know what he smells like going into a rut.

They should have predicted this, too. After all, his new mate had gone into heat right in front of him. Personal feelings for each other aside, it would have been more surprising if this didn't happen.

Madara freezes from where he's clearly been pacing the corridor, eyes zeroing first on Hikaku, and then on the room behind him.

This, at least, Hikaku has an idea of how to deal with.

"Hold on a moment." He says. Closes the door.

"Tobirama-san." He turns to the omega, who has been watching the proceedings with half lidded eyes, "May I borrow one of the blankets you've been lying on?"

"Mm?" Tobirama hums, "Ah. I see."

When he pulls the blanket out from under himself, Tobirama, too, nuzzles his face into it for a moment, before holding it out to Hikaku. He's decidedly less ashamed about the whole ordeal, though whether that's because he's currently in heat, or just because he's a shameless man, Hikaku can't say.

"Thank you." He says, and doesn't bother folding the blanket, because the moment he opens the door again and holds it out to Madara, the man snatches it from him, eyes blown wide.

"Do you need anything else, Madara-sama?" He asks.

Madara doesn't even seem capable of mustering words right now. He shakes his head, and retreats down the hallway without ever turning his back to Hikaku. When he finally ducks into his own room, all Hikaku can do is shake his head and fight back a fond smile.

It's a bit like introducing two cats to each other, he thinks dryly. But it can be done.

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#the vibes are like. hikaku helps them learn to communicate.
#while himself being unable to communicate his own feelings
#not realizing that both madara and tobirama are communicating their own feelings for him by the crazy amount of trust they give him.

#i dont. know if want to make this a full blown story. i feel insane for already having written this much
#like. i am so neutral to abo. as a concept. idk how this happened!!!!!

If you liked this i ended up thinking about it so much that i wrote more about it

[Hikaku] Healing

Chapter Notes

No good sense has brought them here, just Madara's grief and rage.

Hikaku cant begrudge the man after what's happened to his brother, but in this moment he wishes it had manifested another way. A battle with the Senju is nothing new, but in all of his perfect memory he can never quite remember things being this chaotic. Hashirama is tearing up the landscape just to match Madara, who in his fury is trying to break past his usual opponent to go after Tobirama.

 

Tobirama, who without Izuna there to stop him, is currently beating Hikaku to a pulp.

 

This guy is on another level, he thinks breathlessly. He'd always known that, in theory. Izuna had been one of the best, after all, and Tobirama had always matched him -- until he surpassed him.

In practice, the only thing keeping Hikaku alive is the sharigan's ability to predict movements and whatever it is that's stopping the Senju from using whatever technique it was that injured Izuna.

He stopped trying to block the water dragons after the first and has gone from disrupting their paths with boulders to trying to shred them apart with pebbles as he's grown more exhausted. It hardly slows them, but it's kept him from being completely swept away so far, and if that keeps him alive than that's what he'll continue to do.

It's what he's just done (leaving him soaked, but still on his feet) when Tobirama pauses, landing on a high branch a decent enough distance away that Hikaku might even have a chance to avoid whatever he throws at him.

 

From his perch, Tobirama tilts his head, looking over Hikaku with a considering gaze.

"You have excellent chakra control." He says after a moment, "Even better than Izuna's."

Hikaku blinks, but he does not un-tense, remembering Izuna's many rants about how Tobirama liked to play games with his opponents -- to let them think they’ve won, until they haven't.

Hikaku does not think himself anywhere close to winning, but every moment they aren't actively fighting is another moment he hasn't died.

 

"It's hardly worth comparing us." Hikaku frowns, "And pointless. He still lives."

"For how long? Days? If that." Tobirama purses his lips, a tiny thing that Hikaku would have missed from this distance if his sharingan weren't still activated, "No, I don't think there's much time left at all."

Hikaku has no idea how he knows that, but he isn't wrong. The gut wound he'd left Izuna with has been festering. He wouldn't be surprised to return to the compound to find him dead already. What kind of sick taunt is this?

 

As he talks, Tobirama starts making hand signs -- a long string of them, and not a jutsu Hikaku recognizes. His breath catches and he readies himself, prepared to run from whatever devastation this is going to bring -- but when he finishes the only result he can see is a pale green glow coating the Senju's palm.

Tobirama raises his hand, runs his fingers across a cut on his cheek where a bit of rubble had caught him. When he draws it away, the wound is gone and only a smudge of blood is left behind.

 

A technique that can heal injuries with chakra. When he realizes what he's just been allowed to see -- what he's just been allowed to copy with his sharingan -- Hikaku nearly staggers under the weight of it.

His next thought is I'm going to die. Because surely, surely, there's no way Tobirama Senju is going to allow him to walk away with the knowledge he's just been given.

 

There's a piercing two toned whistle, a bright white flare high in the sky. Retreat called, on both sides. And contrary to everything, to all rational thought, Tobirama does not leap forward, does not cut his throat or snap his spine, but turns, gives Hikaku a long glance, and follows the rest of the Senju in their retreat.

It takes Hikaku a long moment to unfreeze. To go regroup with his clan, mind whirling.

It must be a trap, but what use is there to lay one for a man already as good as dead? If this was some ploy to give false hope, then why pick him, when he could just keep what had just happened to himself?

His clansmen are all silent as they return from the battlefield, Hikaku most of all.

 

I don't think there's much time left at all. That's what Tobirama had said. But time for what?

 

Hikaku is not a fool -- he does not go try to use what he's learned on Izuna, or even on himself and the many cuts and bruises he's come home with. When everyone else goes off to see their own hurts treated, to see their loved ones, when Madara goes straight from the battlefield to go sit by his brother, Hikaku slips away from them all to try something else.

 

The main house has a koi pond, and though the landscaping leaves much to be desired after years of Madara and Izuna using it for their sibling rivalries, it still holds fish. Hikaku mentally apologizes to the late Lady Uchiha as he grabs a koi by the tail and yanks it out of the water, but he thinks, if this works, he will be forgiven.

He waits for the fish to stop thrashing before he makes a cut down it's side; nothing too deep, nothing it couldn't survive on it's own. He lets his sharingan spin, calls up the memory of the hand signs, the way Tobirama's chakra had been stripped of its element, how it had condensed thicker than he'd ever seen.

It only takes him a few moments to understand why Tobirama had made that comment on his chakra control. It's difficult -- more than any technique he's ever tried. But… Not impossible.

If he had more time, he thinks he'd be able to get it to work. As it is…

 

Hikaku is not optimistic. But he will try.

 

He lets the koi back into the pool as, for the first two hours he focuses only on the chakra -- cleaning it, and folding it in on itself over and over and over again. He gets his hands to glow green once before he pulls the koi out of the water again.

There's a delicate balance, he learns. He very nearly overloads the fish's chakra coils before he understands what he's meant to be doing. The information the jutsu gives him is nearly incomprehensible, but there's a feeling to it. The cut feels like metal in the back of his mouth -- and it wants to heal, its already trying to, all he has to do is help it along. To move his chakra through the bits that make his ears ring (and nowhere else, or the chakra will burn healthy flesh) until they've knitted themselves together again.

He thinks he's starting to get the idea when he released the koi back into the water -- cut gone but side covered in chakra burns. The chakra is giving a place for the scar tissue to form sooner than it should, or something like it. Hikaku shakes his head. It's interesting, but the theory will come later when he's got less important things to think about.

 

A chill has fallen as the sun has gone down, but Hikaku finds himself wiping his brow. If he could, he would rest, would at least find another animal to test on, but… Time.

He's not ready for Izuna quite yet, though. Hikaku goes home, throws together the most nourishing food he can in as short a time as he can manage -- he had been meaning to save the dried meat for a special day, not an emergency, but needs must -- and tries to heal himself.

 

It's easier and harder than the fish; humans being the more complicated animal. Hikaku ends up getting a lot more feedback he has no idea what to do with -- but he can tell when he's coming close to hurting himself, too. That probably won't be true, when he tries this on another person. To avoid that he needs more control, and more than anything else, a hell of a lot more practice.

By midnight, Hikaku has managed to heal a bruise that had been starting to bloom on his thigh. Nothing, compared to the wound Izuna has, but it's progress.

He feels dizzy when he tries to stand up, to walk over to the main house. Hikaku sighs to himself, but it seems like his body has made up its mind for him. Sleep is the best thing for stamina, after all, and he's not certain how much longer his control will hold out without rest.

If he's too late, he still knows he's tried his hardest.

 

He's asleep nearly as fast as his head touches the futon, for all of four hours before anxiety has him rising right before the sun.

Well, he's a shinobi, he's done more on less. He eats old rice, drinks tea that's hardly had time to steep, makes tracks through the dew as he heads towards the main house in the pre-dawn twilight to try and perform a miracle.

 

Madara is awake when he steps inside -- hunched over, face in his hands, looking like he's aged about ten years since Hikaku saw him last. For a heart-stopping moment, Hikaku fears that he took too long after all.

"He asked me to take his eyes." Madara says in lieu of a greeting, voice muffled.

Hikaku grimaces. The mangekyo is as horrifying as it is powerful, but if Izuna is asking that, it means…

He's given up. He's conceded that he's going to die. Hikaku has even less time than he'd thought.

 

"…Is he awake right now?" Hikaku feels breathless; sounds it too, but Madara doesn't notice.

"He was when I left him." Replies Madara, voice rough. For him to have left Izuna's side while his brother was still awake, they must have argued. Probably about the eyes.

Hikaku nods, turns to walk to the room where Izuna's sickbed is without asking any more. He won't explain, not yet, won't give false hope. Explanations can come after, right now he's just got to try.

 

Izuna doesn't react to his entrance -- he's still breathing, but asleep or unconscious. Just as well, Hikaku thinks wryly, pulling the chair he knows Madara has spent hours in to give him better access to the wound on Izuna's side, He'll be less distracting like this.

He's dressed this wound before, and when Hikaku pulls the bandages off its still as ugly as it was the day Izuna got it, the blood clotted and dark. It doesn't smell, at least. Hikaku has no idea how this jutsu handles infections.

One bracing breath is all he allows himself before making the handsigns, pulling the chakra to his hands. It's easier after rest, but harder, for the nerves.

 

Izuna twitches as Hikaku places his hands over the wound, as the back of his throat fills with the taste of copper. His entire attention focuses down to his hands, to the skin and muscle under them, to threading his chakra back and forth and pulling things back to how they should be.

"H'kaku?" He hears after a while. Izuna's voice, but he doesn't look, even as the man goes tense beneath him. He seems to at least understand that whatever Hikaku is doing, it needs concentration.

It could only have been minutes, or it could have been days by the time Hikaku's chakra starts to waver. He dismisses the technique, not wanting to undo his work -- he hasn't done nearly as much as he'd wanted to but he thinks… He thinks he might have stopped the downward spiral, at least.

"Hikaku." Izuna's voice again. When he looks up, Hikaku's vision goes white with spots. He's sweating with exertion, he realizes, and now that he's dropped the jutsu his hands are shaking so badly he doesn't think he'll be able to form the hand signs again.

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder. When his vision finally stops spinning Madara and Izuna are both staring at him with wide eyes.

This is the most lucid he's seen Izuna in over a week.

"Hikaku." Madara is the one who speaks this time, sounding breathless, "What was that?"

 "I think…" Hikaku gasps, "That was Tobirama Senju's way of asking for peace."

Chapter End Notes

Maybe I should change this fic's description to say Hikaku-centric. damn.

Tags on the original post
#youve seen tobirama and hashirama heal izuna
#now get ready for THIS
#i like to think tobirama did some research before he just gave that technique away
#and also some risk assessment. he knows it was not likely to work
#but he also knows not many people would be able to figure out that technique from just what hikaku saw
#ie: even if izuna dies and hikaku spreads the technique around its not likely many people will be able to use it and use it properly
#hikaku certainly isn't doing it very efficiently!
#but i think tobirama would be impressed that he figured it out from what little bit he saw. and then. heh. you know.

[Madara] Mangekyo

Chapter Summary

cw: Mercy Killing

Chapter Notes

Cool fingers pull away from Madara's temple and chakra with them; without it, his eyes return to aching, as they do almost every day now.

He opens his eyes to the sight of Tobirama frowning down at his notes.

Ask Madara even last year if he would have let Tobirama anywhere near his eyes and he would have laughed in your face and then probably killed you on top of it. That they were here now was due to what else but Hashirama's meddling -- a comment here and there revealing that he knew Madara's eyesight was failing, a reminder of his ability to heal. When he'd tried, the admission that this, he could not help, but that his brother was much better at fine details like eyes than him --

He'd put the thought in Madara's head, and Madara had rejected the idea every time he'd thought of it -- through every migraine, through every day where his eyes ached so badly he preferred not to open them. He would not let Hashirama's mad scientist of a younger brother anywhere near his eyes.

Until Izuna had noticed. Had started pressuring Madara into taking his eyes. Madara knew Izuna would get his way given enough time to manipulate, and he would not leave his brother to live blind.

"What if I find a way to fix them?" He'd exploded, "Will you drop it then?"

And that had left him with only one place to go.

Tobirama had not gloated, had agreed that the payment for curing his failing eyesight would be the information he learned doing it. Had even agreed that Madara could reject any question he asked without explanation.

Though really, the thing that had convinced Madara that he hadn't made the worst mistake in his life was, when he admitted the weakness of the Mangekyo, when Tobirama responded -- faintly bitter -- that all bloodline limits had their drawbacks.

(Madara did not ask after Hashirama. But he wondered).

So far, Tobirama has not done anything to hurt him. Had, on the very first day, said that he could repair at least some of the damage to his eyes but admitted that until he could understand the root cause it would likely degenerate the next time he used his sharingan.

"Not any worse than last time." Tobirama remarks, "So at least the reinforcements held. But you haven't used the advanced state of your doujutsu, have you?"

"No." Madara admits. And that was the rub -- the cause had been obvious. The Mangekyo forced in too much unrestrained chakra for even an Uchiha's well developed eye coils to handle, and the damage to the coils affected the body. Finding a solution that was acceptable was where things had stalled.

"Prolonged use could even start to affect the brain." Tobirama had said, flat and clinical, after the first time Madara had let him run a sweep of medical chakra through his eyes, "Though I suspect you would already be long blind by then."

Back then Madara had grit his teeth in a valiant effort to not attack the man in anger. Now, he recognizes that it was a simple statement of fact, nothing more. Whether or not Tobirama has plans to do anything with what he's learned Madara still isn't sure, but the man had promised to heal his eyes and apparently intends to keep it with same work ethic that he had used to help construct the village. His methods have been rigorous, sometimes exhausting, but there is no question on if he has been trying.

Which was to say that it was becoming clear, now that Madara has some idea on how to read the man, that Tobirama is just as frustrated with the lack of progress as he is. He doesn't show it by sighing or rubbing at his temples like Madara might, but by glaring at his notes and pressing down with his pen so hard that it might break.

"What, exactly, is the roadblock right now?" Madara still doesn't know if having the Senju speak his thoughts out loud helps or distracts, but in the end they're his eyes, and Tobirama always humors him when he asks.

This time, he has to take a long moment to pull his thoughts together.

"If it were just too much chakra, I think I could find a solution. There are techniques that temporarily increase the size of ones coils…"

Madara blinks, "The Akimichi?"

There had been some talk about Tobirama taking an Akimichi onto his team recently. Did that have something to do with him?

Tobirama finally looks up. He nods, but there's a unhappy tilt to his mouth.

"It allows for more chakra to pass through, but it makes the coils weaker. It's not a problem for the Akimichi since their chakra is so stable and their coils are more robust than most. For an Uchiha…" He looks away, gaze unfocused, "You could handle it normally, but the Mangekyo makes your chakra especially volatile."

Tobirama pauses for only a moment. One of the first things he'd asked had been the reason for the extra instability in chakra that happened when the sharingan was activated, and Madara had said he would not answer. To his credit, he hasn't asked again.

"…And every solution I've considered for reducing the volatility will likely also end up reducing the power in some way." Which was unacceptable, it went without saying.

A month ago Madara would never have volunteered this information, but he's tired -- of the constant ache, of the experiments, of Izuna behaving as though he would be fine if he were blind. Tobirama has won the information he'd asked for, by attrition, and by accident.

"Part of the instability comes from the technique itself." Madara admits, closing his eyes so as not to see Tobirama's sharp gaze snap to him (and that had been another odd thing -- Madara wasn't sure he had ever made so much eye contact with a non-clan member before) "And part of it comes from the fact that in order to activate it, we have to recall the memory that awoke the sharingan in the first place."

He keeps his eyes closed, so he does not know what expression Tobirama makes, only that the man's voice is unusually hesitant when he clarifies, "…Every time?"

"Not in full, but the emotions that come with it? Every time."

The riverbank, the determination to protect his family -- that memory was like an old friend to him.

He called up his Mangekyo less. That one still ached.

He has not woken up, and the healers said it was likely that he wouldn't before he passed.

Tajima had given as good as he'd gotten, and Madara prays that Butsuma Senju's death is been as long and agonizing as his father's has been. He reaches out, folds his hands over Izuna's, over the blade his little brother holds. The tremble in Izuna's hand is too small to be seen, but Madara can feel it as he wraps his fingers tight.

He does not comment on it. Just this once, such weakness can be forgiven.

If Tajima is only going to lie there unconscious and in pain until he expires, then there is only one thing that makes sense. If Madara and Izuna can grow more powerful from his death, then Madara knows with surety that it's what he would have wanted.

Izuna squeezes his eyes closed and takes a steadying breath before opening, meeting Madara's whirling sharingan with his own.

"Okay." His little brother breathes.

Their hands move together. The cut is quick and deep, but the blood still sprays over their hands, over their clothes. Tajima still wheezes a horrible sound, searching for a last breath, convulses when he can't.

They're shinobi, death is a thing that is at once close and impersonal, this --

This burns.

Every time.

"…I'm sorry." Says Tobirama, and Madara's eyes fly open. Because Tobirama Senju is a man who does not apologize, much less for things that have nothing to do with him.

The look on his face is unreadable, but it's not pity, Madara thinks.

"For what?" Madara wheezes, ears buzzing. He has no idea whether to be furious or not, no idea what to feel at all.

Tobirama raises an eyebrow, "The sharingan gives perfect memory, does it not? To have to recall such things every time…" He shakes his head, "Perhaps your clan is more sane than I ever gave you credit for."

There's so much unsaid in that statement that Madara will ruminate on later, but for now he thinks he sees where this is going and warns, "Messing with a sharingan user's memory is not only nearly impossible, but a taboo as well."

There have been plenty who have tried, who wanted the memories burned into their eyes out and gone. And clan record after clan record showed that, without fail, those who tried went insane. This was a line he would not allow Tobirama to cross.

"I suspected as much." Tobirama agrees easily, if not a little wry. "Fine. No memory manipulation. Then what about emotions?"

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#in the bad ending of this fic tobirama is like 'hey everyone I made a seal that can remove emotions'
#in the good one he learns about mental health.
#WHILE IM HERE. if hashirama and madara became clan heads around the same time. you KNOW hashirama tried to go for peace right away right.
#which was a mistake imo. because he's asking for peace when madara is remembering what the senju took from him the most.
#btw can someone PLEASE smash a barrel over my head and make me work on my long fics. PLEASE

[Kawarama] Nightmares

Chapter Notes

Kawarama awakens to arms tight around his chest and a gasping wheeze of "Kawa."

Tobirama is squeezing him tight enough to hurt, has his face buried between his shoulder blades. He's shaking, but Tobi never --

Something's wrong.

"Hey." He tries, voice still rough with sleep, "Hey, Tobi, it was a nightmare alright? I'm okay."

Tobirama's breath wavers, like he's trying to speak but he can't because he's…  Oh he's too close to tears which is…

Kawarama knows he's the only one Tobi is willing to cry in front of, but he also knows that he still hates it.

Tobirama doesn't let go, and all Kawarama can think to do is grab at Tobirama's hands and keep his breathing steady and hope that he follows.

He's starting to get there when the door slides open and Hashirama steps in, eyes wide and Itama bundled up against his chest. He's crying too, which is not so unusual for him, except that he's being quiet about it. Wordlessly, he crosses the room, kneels down on the futon, and gathers them both into his arms too, much as he can.

This is just starting to get scary.

"Onii-san? Did something happen?"

Hashirama laughs, quiet and watery.

"No. Just had a bad dream, was all."

"Oh." Breathes Kawarama, easier now, because Tobirama seems to have relaxed a little now that they're all together, "You too?"

A hand pets through his hair, but Hashirama only answers with a hum.


Thing is, if that had been where the weirdness stopped, Kawarama wouldn't have questioned it. But with Tobi, he was at a loss. His brother seemed to alternate between being so much more clingy than he'd ever been before and then going all stoic and distant.

And -- sure. It was a nightmare. A really scary one, apparently. Kawarama got them too, sometimes, and got freaked out, and wouldn't be at his best, but he usually got better. He gave it a day, and then a few days but if anything Tobirama only got worse. Got crazy intense with his training, was reading all the time when he wasn't and pretty often Kawarama would catch him just… Staring into space.

Worst of all, Hashirama was doing it too.

His older brother was never very serious, but sometimes something would happen, or chichiue would say something and he'd get this look on his face. He started trying to act all responsible, started acting like Tobi already was, but that Kawarama wasn't.

Must have been some nightmare.

Or genjutsu. Or his brothers have been replaced by impostors or something. He doesn't get it! Tobi has had scary dreams before now, but it had never caused anything like this!

And they won't talk about it!

Which as far as Kawarama is concerned, has left him with only one good option.

Ever since Tobirama has started practicing his sensing, there's only been one person who's been able to sneak under his guard, and that's him. Even with his brother's new weird paranoia, he can still manage to trail him through the compound until he's alone with Hashirama.

He was always better at being sneaky, between the two of them.

They meet in one of the gardens, but one of the far away ones. The ones where Hashirama goes to practice with his weird plant-jutsu everyone likes so much. Using trees as cover doesn't work against Hashi, so Kawarama has to resort to henging into a lizard and pretending to sun on a rock. Forcing his chakra as small as he can, its hard to focus on the conversation they're having, especially when it's even weirder than he thought.

"--We're too young for that!" Tobirama chides, "No one in the clan is going to be willing to listen right now, and if something happens to him now there's no way we can control the power vacuum that's going to come afterwards."

"I know, but I need to get him off of your backs! It's -- it's coming soon, Tobi."

There's a long silence, before Tobirama, sounding defeated, says, "I know." And then, frustrated, "I'm trying, but my chakra control isn't anywhere close, yet, and my stores are worse."

Hashirama groans and flops to the ground, the most like himself Kawarama has seen him be all week.

"…I need to do something to distract him from you guys. Give you more time. You always seemed to know him best, Tobi, what do you think I should do…?"

Tobi snorts, "Knew best how to keep him from beating me, more like." Which makes Hashirama make a wounded sound and Kawarama almost lose control of his chakra. Who the hell were they talking about that was trying to beat his brother? "And not right now, anyways. Things are… Different. Maybe I can volunteer --"

"No!" Hashirama cuts in "You already did enough of that for one lifetime. I'm your big brother, I can handle it. I just need to figure something out!"

More silence, just wind and Kawarama forcing himself not to boil over with anger.

"I'll do something to delay him getting to the mission." Hashirama declares, "He'll be forced to give it to someone older if there's less time."

"Maybe. And that's only a short term solution." Tobi mutters, cross, "You know he's just going to do it again."

Hashirama only crosses his arms, "And I can keep coming up with short term solutions until you figure out the long one, right?"

Tobirama rubs at his eyes, and in that moment he just looks so tired. But Kawarama knows he's been sleeping, so why

"…Right."

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#i did not mention it directly in the fic but im big hinting at tobi kawa twins
#(and my further hc of tobirama only getting good at sensing after he died)
#itama and kawarama ur limitless potential as characters has bewitched me
#ps. i didnt realize i was spelling kawaramas name wrong this whole time until i looked it up for this. this is a common theme for me though

[Hikaku] Observation

Chapter Notes

Asked for prompts on (tumblr). This one:

"Ooooo okay I am AWFUL at drabbles so this is more of a prompt in general with a side of hope that it's compatible with drabbles but: Hikaku, for whatever reason, watching Tobirama fight prior to peace, without any significant reason he should interfere (so like, Tobirama isn't trying to kill Izuna or an Uchiha client, probably)(maybe if the client is REALLY awful)"

Cw: Canon Typical Violence + Body Horror

It's honestly easy to forget, sometimes, that Tobirama Senju does not have a sharingan.

There's the red eyes, for one, and the incredible speed and reaction time that it's rare to see in one without his clan's doujutsu. But more than that…

Hikaku tracks Tobirama as he twists pasts a barrage of spikes, as he uses the momentum of the move to duck under a blade of bone another shinobi has extended from their wrist and brings up and kunai to cut their throat cleanly instead of being stabbed. Watches as without even a pause, he turns to block another blade as it sweeps in from the side.

He does not know what Tobirama might have done to provoke Kaguya clan into attacking him in the middle of a village market, but Hikaku is certain that intel will be valuable. That's why, despite the fact that he may well be attacked by both parties if he's seen -- the Kaguya traditionally being aggressive towards the Uchiha, which is what makes this so interesting -- he's stayed, watching from underneath shadow of the top gable of a nearby roof.

Though it's looking more and more likely that he would only have to worry about drawing Tobirama's attention towards him, as with a shunshin and a twist of his sword another shinobi crumples to the ground, blood spraying on the dirt.

That's the other thing -- Hikaku has fought the Kaguya on rare occasion, and they are dangerous. Their fighting style is reckless, with hardly any sense of self-preservation, and often catches even seasoned warriors off guard. Tobirama is -- had been -- outnumbered, seemingly surprised, and yet in just a few movements had appeared to understand exactly what he was up against and how to counter it.

And he does not have the sharingan, or the so-called prescience that comes with it. Apparently, his mind simply just works that fast.

Perhaps Izuna's complaints have some real credence to them after all.

A water bullet with enough force to slice muscle takes out the tendon of Tobirama's final enemy, and forces him to his knees, Tobirama shunshins again -- behind him -- to finish the fight with another blade to the spine. Only this Kaguya clan member is quick enough to erupt of nest of spikes from the spot, catching Tobirama's sword in place.

Tobirama's other arm swings around, kunai going cleanly through an unprotected eye. As though he had predicted that very thing was going to happen.

Just as efficiently as he had killed them, Tobirama gathers their bodies and begins going through their things. Removing any clues to what this was all about, no doubt, but Hikaku doesn't dare step in to try and stop him. That encounter does not appear to have even left Tobirama winded, and he doesn't have backup.

A scroll is taken from what must have been the captain's sleeve and hidden beneath armor. Having found what he's looking for, the Senju leans forward and closes the lids of the Kaguya shinobi's eyes -- a small dignity for them that Hikaku is surprised to see -- before turning away. And as he does, those red eyes sweep over their surroundings, pausing on Hikaku just long enough to make it clear: Tobirama knows that he's there; has probably known the entire time.

But Tobirama leaves going another direction, and doesn't start another fight.

Chapter End Notes

Tags on the original post:

#i can go either way on the fanon that is tobirama's sensing

#but when its there the unerring ability to be able to find hidden things is ALSO comparable to the sharingan

#so this is... something. lmao

#me @ me: girl you need to write shorter things. my god

[Uchihas][/Tobirama] Less polite Observation

Chapter Notes

Asked for prompts on (tumblr). This one:

"Or, alternate funny version to the previous: any combination of Uchiha watching Tobirama fight and discussing their observations (gossiping/oogling shamelessly), after peace exists and they SHOULD technically probably help him, but... Tobirama can clearly handle it, no need to get in his way"

The ability to share memories with the sharingan really isn't meant to be used this way, but that's never actually stopped anyone.

"I swear to you," Says Madara with a snicker, "He slapped himself in the face with a water whip. Acted like it never happened, but I saw it."

The scene is a bit more endearing than that, when Madara shows it. Tobirama is sparring with his students and one of them can't quite dodge in time. That jutsu can break skin and cut through muscle if it hits right, but rather than hurt one of his students that badly, Tobirama jerks it back. He breaking the whip's momentum but loses a good portion of control and,  indeed, slaps himself in the fact with it. He looks rather akin to a wet cat.

Madara and Izuna both break out into another fit of laughter, but Hikaku just shakes his head fondly.

"I've seen him do that on purpose, actually." He says after the laughter has died down a bit. It's not exactly the same -- the memory he calls up had been recorded on accident. It had been in those early days of peace, when seeing Tobirama move water about had made him call up the sharingan on instinct, back when they'd be so concerned that Tobirama would break peace that he wasn't allowed to go off on missions alone.

It had been rather rote mission -- dealing with bandits who had thought they could take advanced of the disorganization of a new village, andhad had been hot. The summer temperatures soaring high and uncomfortable, and they'd both been sweat soaked and sticky by the end of it.

"Excuse me" Tobirama had said the moment he'd cause sight of a source of water. He'd let himself jump in ankle deep instead of standing on top, raised an arm, and proceeded to dump an honestly excessive amount of water over himself. Of course, his mastery over water let him pull water out of his clothes until he was just the right amount of damp without any effort-- Hikaku had been and still is jealous over it -- and even back then, eyes lingered on where wet clothes stuck to well-defined muscle.

Thankfully no one comments. The sharingan's tendency to show the exactly what was seen means they've all shared unintentionally embarrassing moments. Plus, Hikaku knows he's not the only one who's done that exact thing.

"Oh, sensei will do that for us, if we ask!" Chimes in Kagami, thankfully too young and oblivious to understand why his cousins are giving Hikaku the side eye. He launches into a memory of his team begging and pleading to be allowed to train on the water on another hot day. His sensei had crossed his arms, unimpressed, and said he knew that the lot of them had all mastered water walking already…

…But that if the lot of them managed to prove they could do their D-rank mission without complaining, he would think of a way to cool them all off. In Kagami's young memory, the cool mist Tobirama had raised from the pond of the garden they'd been weeding had been the most refreshing thing he'd ever felt.

"…He's too soft on you." Madara says, without any real heat.

"He's something." Izuna responds dryly. "Sometimes I forget, none of you have ever seen what it's like when he really wants to get something done."

Without warning, Izuna calls up the memory of a fight. No… A spar, but a bloodthirsty one. Probably one of the first ones they'd had since they were allowed to again, after peace was called. A mixture of pent up frustration and the fact that they were no longer supposed to kill each other had both of them showing off -- Izuna was prone to do it, regardless, but this was the first time he'd seen Tobirama opt for techniques that were more flashy than practical. A water dragon with multiple heads splits apart into a swarm, chasing Izuna through the trees, each one eating one of the multi-fireballs Izuna hurls out to counter them.

Tobirama did not hesitate, leaping out from the steam and twisting his fingers. The droplets of water in the air shimmered and twisted until everything was an indistinct haze.

Not that it stops a sharingan. But something about the scene -- the way the light hit the mist, haloing Tobirama with a sort of rainbow -- or maybe the way he's smirking -- makes Izuna pause.

Oh, he thinks.

Oh, thinks everyone else.

Chapter End Notes

Tags on original post:

#I think tobirama probably tried to figure out if he could refract light through water enough to blind people

#he can't but he can make things *pretty* doesn't help with the sharingan but hey if hes showing off...

#I also have a very vague and cracky idea of… the uchiha sharing memories with each other.

#and as they increasingly gain more memories of Tobirama Not being their enemy during peace time

#(and being downright kind to them re: Kagami and Hikaku specifically)

#they all lowkey start to like and maybe even fall or him a little (since the memories being shared already have that connotation)

#and tobirama is just clueless about the change in opinion and why it might be happening

#………something something single dad hikaku as well. ive been THINKING about this.

#urgh like I need more ideas. ANYWAYS.

#I Am Not Immune to Italicized Oh Moments

#izuna got bodyslammed into the ground immediately after that memory ends btw. which Did Not help realizationwise

[Hashirama][HashiMito] Garden

Chapter Notes

Asked for prompts on (tumblr). This one:

"A drabble prompt: hashirama gardening"

"Hashirama, darling."

Hashirama ducks his head, wondering if he'll be able to pretend he hadn't heard his wife calling him. She only uses that tone when she's really annoyed with him.

A hand lands on his shoulder and he starts. She snuck up on him! Definitely mad.

"…Yes, Mito, dearest?"

He turns to look up at his with his most winning smile, which has never, not once, worked on his beautiful wife, but he always tries.

"Do you remember how we talked about how, lovely as your garden is, you need to keep it outside?"

Hashirama blinks. Looks around. Looks up -- they are in the garden, and as far as he can tell, they are also outside.

"…Yes?"

She smiles at him, reaches out to clasp his hand between her own. Wordlessly, he lets her tug him to his feet and back to the house. The boxwood was getting a little tired of being pruned anyways.

They don’t actually get far enough inside to have to remove their shoes. Mito slides open the door and waits, eyes on him.

"Oh!" He laughs nervously, "Uh. I'm sure if you leave it alone, it won't bother you?"

The centipede is only about a meter long, and Hashirama is reasonably certain that the venom this kind has isn't particularly dangerous.

Mito does not look very impressed.

"How do you feel," She asks, "About making a special garden. One a little further away from the house."

Chapter End Notes

From Original post:

"On the one hand, there's this, on the other I think Hashirama and co casually chilling with giant insects as though they were cats is really good."

#I ALMOST GOT THERE. wc wise

#and that's how the forest of death got made

[Mito] Family

Chapter Notes

Asked for prompts on (tumblr). This one:

"...okay this is even less drabbleish probably but now I'm imagining the like. Scenario with Hashirama and Tobirama miscommunicating and both not trusting each other (specifically re: Butsuma needs to die) and then dropping Mito in the middle of THAT mess. Just, you know, because it wasn't complicated enough yet"

Mito had never quite managed to get herself to believe in rumors of Hashirama's ruthlessness. Not until, on the first night she spent visiting Senju Lands, he caught her in private. Sat her down, clasped her hand, told her he understood if she thought differently of him, after this…

Her family hadn't quite been convinced of the need to marry her to Hashirama, though to not marry someone would have meant to all but break the alliance they'd had with the Senju for as long as both clans had existed.

Mito had argued it should be herself, in the end, and not for truly political reasons.

She liked Hashirama, liked his grand dreams, and even if they seemed a little too far-fetched to come true, he'd certainly make interesting things happen by trying. Her family liked him too. It was his father that had them all concerned, and, well…

Patricide was no small thing, but Hashirama had said, guilty and tearful, that his father hurt people. Broke people. That he wouldn't accept peace if it was handed to him on a silver platter, and the longer he stayed in power the harder it would be for Hashirama to achieve it.

Mito had promised not only to keep his secret, but to support him, where she could. There wasn't much she could do, not when they weren’t married yet, but she kept an eye out, an ear open, and a few seals hidden in certain spots to help those first two thing along.

That was how she noticed Tobirama -- the stoic younger brother, the one who she'd been introduced to but not actually properly met, which was a shame because she'd heard he was a dab hand at seal work and hardly anyone else seemed interested in it, around here -- was acting just suspiciously enough that she could tell he was up to something.

She'd just assumed he was in on it. It was the most obvious answer to why she overheard him. He was cautious about it, clever; what he was doing only apparent to her because she was an outsider not privy to whatever assumptions Tobirama was using to get away with with saying what he was saying. He was undermining his father's leadership. Smoothing along the inevitable transfer of power.

It wasn't until later that she realized otherwise. She'd thought meals were strained because they were shared with Butsuma, but one evening the Senju clan head was called away for work. Even with him gone, Tobirama remained withdrawn, and Hashirama's smiles remained tense and forced.

"I thought…" Mito puzzled out slowly, after the meal, and Hashirama had oh-so improperly found another private moment with her, "That your brother was after him, too?"

"If he is, he's never told me." Hashirama said, all sad and bitter and anxious.

Well, Mito would just have to see what was going on with that.

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#Urghgg urgh I want to write this idea so bad.

#not this ^ specifically because imo if mito were there she would probably nip that miscommunication in the bud.

#but senju bros both planning patricide and not communicating and not understanding each other

#until they do. communicate that is. they still don’t understand. but they do trust :)

#anwyays what I have learned from this is that I just cant keep my ideas short.

#and that its easier to start new ideas than pick up old ones <-story of my life

[Izuna] Care

Chapter Notes

Suiton users already run cold. With the chakra exhaustion on top of that, Izuna really could be sitting next to a corpse.

Maybe he should be. With everything between them, it would be easy to make it so, but…

Tobirama started it, he thinks sourly. If the Senju had taken any of the plentiful opportunities he'd had to strike Izuna down, it wouldn't have ended up like this. But no -- months ago they'd agreed that until they figured out the way back home that letting the other live was not treason. This, though. This was too far. Leaving the other alive was one thing -- to sacrifice yourself for the other, when they were who they were, was a level of insanity only Tobirama could muster.

Izuna knows why he did it, too. Years of fighting meant he knew his rival, but these months have forced some level of understanding. Lying next to him, breathing so shallowly that Izuna can't hear it without putting an ear to his chest is a man who can't stand losing the things he cares about, to the point of self destruction.

He cares.

Izuna made him care.

He reaches over, takes the pale wrist between his fingers to find the faint pulse, and tries not to think about how it doesn't feel like a victory.

Chapter End Notes

Tags on original post:

#LIKE. i think about this little plot thread all the time and for all that ive not managed to straighten out what happens beyond

#somehow they are separated from their clans and cant return. somehow they are forced to work together.

#and i have the scenes of them starting to understand each other in my brain. but not how to put them in that situation.

#and so this one remains rotating in my brain forever

This post came with art as well: https://domoz.tumblr.com/post/712928701754507264/little-drawing-and-snippet-of-a-fic-im-probably

[Hikaku] [Hika/Tobi] Sickfic

Chapter Notes

Hikaku rubs at stinging eyes and re-reads a line for the third time in as many minutes.

It's not even lunch yet. He's usually not so tired this early in the day, but he's had a pounding headache since he woke up this morning and the noise of construction just outside his office really hasn't helped with his focus. He already shut the window to block out some of the unusual chill that's lasted past the early morning, but the sound of hammering and shouting still filters up and frays at his nerves.

Having a place to eat so close to the administrative tower will be nice, really! He just wishes they could make it happen more quietly. Just for today, at least.

Hikaku groans and smothers his face into his hand, resenting how nice the pressure and darkness feels. It would help if anyone from the Nara could be bothered to make their handwriting neat enough to read.

 

A presence announces itself at the door with a light rap, and Hikaku is faintly alarmed to note that he's so fatigued that it feels like a monumental struggle to lift his head and greet them.

It's Tobirama, arms crossed and frowning faintly.

"I came to see if you had finished looking over contract proposals the Nara sent, but…"

Hikaku winces. He's made it a bit of a point of pride to be on time with his paperwork, and that's something Tobirama seems to appreciate, but now here he is with something truly time sensitive and he can't focus enough to get it done.

"Apologies." He says, "I'll get it to you as soon as I'm finished."

Tobirama nods, but he does not otherwise move, and after a long moment of staring at each other, Hikaku ducks his head and tries to focus back on the work in front of him.

"Hikaku-san." Tobirama's voice is suddenly much closer, because -- he looks up with a start, he knows Tobirama is fast but honestly, his reaction was slow -- the man himself is closer, leaning over Hikaku's desk and into his space with an unreadable look on his face.

Hikaku can only blink. His mind feels like it's swimming through syrup, and it runs completely blank as Tobirama raises a hand and rests the back of his cool fingers on Hikaku's brow.

"You're sick." He announces, and, well, when it's pointed out so plainly, the evidence adds up. But then Tobirama goes on to say, "You should go home, you'll do better work when you're well rested."

Those are bold words coming from one of the most chronically overworked people Hikaku knows. And the response that bubbles out of him is, "You stayed in the office when you were sick last month, isn't that a bit hypocritical?"

He doesn't actually mean to say that last part out loud, but with Tobirama so close to him and looking at him so intently, the chill he'd been feeling has been flushed out by a warmth that's only serving to muddle his thoughts further.

"I didn't have anyone encouraging me to do otherwise." Tobirama replies with an unrepentant shrug. Which… Is true enough, if a very flimsy justification. Hikaku had noticed, at least, and had made sure Tobirama always had some tea ready if he needed it, but he'd not actually pointed out that the man should rest.

"…Hikaku-san." Tobirama says again, pulling his wandering attention back. The frown has returned with greater intensity, "Who takes care of you in times like this?"

It's already clear that Tobirama isn't willing to be swayed. He's already hard enough to persuade at the best of times, and Hikaku hardly feels capable of a conversation right now, much less an argument.

…But he's not in such a bad state that he needs someone to take care of him. His mind goes to Madara first, but he's far too busy to worry over something like this, and then Izuna, who would also be busy, if he wasn't out on a mission, anyways. The Uchiha are a tight knit clan, and there are plenty of other names he could say, but… There's work, and missions, and new children, and it's really not worth getting in anyone's way over a simple cold…

"…I see." Says Tobirama, taking his extended silence as an answer. One he looks unhappy with, for whatever reason.

Without warning, he stands up and begins gathering all the papers left on Hikaku's desk into a neat pile.

"Ah…?" Is about as far as Hikaku gets into protesting before those cool fingers are on his wrist and the entire world lurches out from under him. He hadn't been feeling nauseous before, but the surprise hirashin brings it to the back of his throat, and Hikaku has to hunch over and breath through it for a few moments before he can get a bearing on where he is.

It's a small wooden house, one that smells distinctively of the pine and sap of a mokuton grown building. It's a little cluttered, but it's obvious that everything has it's own place.

 

There's a temptingly inviting looking kotatsu in the middle of the room. There's paperwork on the kitchen counter. There's a shrine in one corner, and in the other, an armor stand with a familiar set of blue hanging off it.

…He's in Tobirama's house.

"I'm not going to actually stop you from working, even if I think you should rest." Tobirama ignores Hikaku's gaping and sets the paperwork on the kotatsu, "It should be easier to focus here, regardless. I'm going to make soup for lunch."

Hikaku stares for a long, long moment as Tobirama moves to kitchen and starts pulling out ingredients. The Senju only glances up at him when he performs a sloppy kai just to make sure there's no genjutsu involved with...Whatever this is, but nothing changes. Either this is a fever induced hallucination, or it's real.

For lack of another option, Hikaku picks his way over to the kotatsu and slides to sit underneath it. It must have only just been turned on, but the warmth already feels dangerously comfortable.

Tobirama had been correct about one thing, at least. The sound of something being chopped in the kitchen makes it much easier to focus than the sounds of construction did. If only he didn't lose what he had gained in the way it's growing harder and harder to keep his eyelids open.

… A few moments to rest his eyes will probably do wonders to get this headache under control, and Tobirama will wake him up to eat, surely?

 

And if he doesn't, if Hikaku wakes up with his work already done and a meal ready to be reheated and eaten, well… Who could blame him for doing exactly what was planned?

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#im just imagining madara being like. hey . where's hikaku

#and tobirama says he wasn't feeling well. so he sent him home.

#does NOT specify that he sent hikaku to HIS home

#sir that is MY favorite coworker and im acting NORMAL about him!!

[Hikaku] [Hika/Tobi] Marriage Hunt + Blessed Eyes AU

Chapter Notes

Hikaku waits in perfect stillness, aside from the slow spin of his sharingan.

There is little chance of securing himself a spouse this hunt, he knows. Not when the prey is Senju Tobirama.

Madara is out there, stronger than him, and Izuna, faster and more familiar with the prey. There are clan members who are better at tracking and sensing who all stand a better chance than he does, but if he had not even tried, then Hikaku would have had no chance at all.

In truth, he thinks the most likely outcome is Tobirama remaining unbound and unwed by the time the sun rises. The treaty had only called for a hunt, not a marriage, and the prey is clever and wily. They had known that when they'd asked for this. But the Uchiha had wanted a chance, however slim, to bring those blessed eyes into their clan.

Hikaku had wanted a chance, too -- it felt blasphemous to not at least try. And so, he waits. Unmoving, chakra crushed down to blend in with the trees, as his clansmen scatter and search in the forest around him.

He has no chance of chasing down Tobirama, he's known that from the start, so instead of trying he's found a spot, set up traps, and sits, waiting. Tobirama probably wont fall for them, either, but he might, and that's at least worth waiting in the forest until sunrise.

 

One of the wires he's attached to a distant branch vibrates, then another, and another. One might have been an animal, but so many so fast means a person. Person doesn't mean Tobirama, but Hikaku tenses in preparation, regardless. Whoever they are, they're moving towards him at breakneck speed. Fleeing, Hikaku hopes, as he curls one hand around the wire in the clearing, and another in a sign, ready to spring one of the traps at his feet.

A figure springs into view, a streak of ghostly white, and Hikaku does not hesitate, pulling the wires tight around a figure that, even though he is clearly surprised, is able to dodge the attack. But not perfectly; when he hits the ground, its with a stumble, and its pure instinct that has Hikaku forming the hand signs to pull the pre-loosened dirt under him down and in.

Before Hikaku can even blink, he has Tobirama buried up to his shoulders. The blessed one is red faced and panting with exertion. He looks around wildly, meeting Hikaku's gaze for a moment that seems to stretch forever before he tears his red eyes away, struggling fruitlessly against the dirt and stone holding him still.

Hikaku hesitates. He wishes they had time to talk, wishes he had time to ask, because the last thing he wants is for Tobirama to resent him for this more than he will already. But the way he'd been moving and the sounds of pursuit in the woods behind can only mean whoever had him fleeing is close. If Hikaku wants to claim Tobirama for himself, he has to do it now.

"I'm sorry." He breathes, like it will help anything.  He loosens the dirt on one side, enough for Tobirama to free one arm, which he does immediately. Hikaku is waiting for it, and he catches the limb, interlocks their fingers, and wraps the red silk cord that every Uchiha who's come out to the hunt tonight has brought with them around both of their wrists, heart thundering all the while.

Tobirama stops struggling after the first knot is tied, but he waits until they're fully bound together to say, "It seems you've caught me, Uchiha-san."

His voice is even. There's no fear or anger in it, and now that it's really over he allows himself to meet Hikaku's eyes. Tobirama looks like he's calculating. Considering.

 

Hikaku smiles at him, self depreciating. He's just some faceless Uchiha to Tobirama, he knows. No one important. He hopes that doesn't make the fact that he's the one who caught him sting even worse.

"You can call me Hikaku." He says, loosening the rest of the dirt and helping Tobirama climb free. Tobirama accepts it -- has to, since their hands are bound.

They're both still on their knees, facing each other when Madara arrives in the clearing with the thunderous crack-snap of stones shattering under his feet when he lands. Izuna is behind him only a moment later -- if they had gotten frustrated with Tobirama slipping away and decided to work together, then it's no wonder he had been so harried when he'd arrived.

"Madara-sama." He greets, "Izuna-sama. I don't suppose you'd mind giving us a bit of privacy?"

Both of them stare for a long moment, eyes comically wide before sharing a look with each other. Izuna makes a helpless wheezing sound, and Madara has to be the one to grab his arm and say, voice high, "Yes. Let's go."

Tobirama almost looks bemused as they flee, though it's fleeting, replaced with that cool consideration as he turns to regard Hikaku. He's the one who caught Tobirama, but he has to suppress a shiver at that red eyed gaze.

 

Tobirama is beautiful, so no matter how this goes he'll have that, at least but…

"I would have liked to have asked if you if you were okay with this." He admits, "But now that they've seen, I'm afraid there's no going back."

Tobirama tilts his chin up imperiously.

"Do not pity me. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this."

In return, Hikaku thins his lips.

"Agreeing to a hunt and getting caught are two very different things." He argues, then sighs. "But I suppose that hardly matters, now. Is -- ah." He really hadn't come prepared for this. His few fantasies involving Tobirama have been more domestic than --  "…Is there a way you'd prefer to do this?"

Tobirama must be unimpressed with the blush coloring his cheeks, Hikaku thinks. At least until he notices this pink starting to dust Tobirama's own.

"…I knew what I was getting into." Tobirama repeats, but this time his voice is quieter, eyes fixed down, on their intertwined fingers, "The treaty may not have demanded a marriage, but peace will be much more stable if one exists."

Oh. Hikaku breaths. Oh, he had been planning on getting caught. If things had gone differently, Tobirama may well have treated the forest of hunters like a buffet of suitors to pick and chose at his will, but instead...

"What I mean to say is --" Tobirama shuffles forward until their knees are touching and he can feel the warmth of Tobirama's breath on his lips, "-- I came prepared. And you did catch me fair and square, Hikaku-san."

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#im gonna be real this kinda made me want to write a version of this

#Where tobirama goes through ^ with multiple uchihas. because they are all shadow clones

#in order to decide who is the best option ofc :)

#..............might right smut for this. or that idea. we'll see! but it would be ao3 only not tumblr lmao

(So if you're reading this keep an eye on this spot. Or I might make another fic for explicit oneshots, maybe. Idk yet.)

[Explicit][Hikaku] Marriage Hunt + Blessed Eyes AU pt2

Chapter Notes

Cw: It's a marriage hunt, so all the dubcon that implies. Everyone's making the best of things, though.

It feels like a dream,  but Hikaku's sharingan is active and spinning slow, recording every bit of what he sees in front of him as truth.

 

"May I?" He's honestly surprised he can get a sound out with his mouth as dry as it is. Tobirama nods, the movement is small, but it can't be mistaken for anything else, not when his focus is so intensely fixed on Hikaku.

 

It's unwise to reach for another shinobi's face without ample warning, so Hikaku does so slowly. Tobirama doesn't so much as twitch as he runs his fingers -- calloused, still dirty from digging -- over one of the red lines adorning the his cheeks. Hikaku's skin is only half a shade darker than is typical for the pale Uchiha, but the difference between them is still stark. Under the moonlight Tobirama seems nearly translucent, the sharingan can pick up the veins under paper-smooth skin, the flutter of a pulse that's fast, but still far more calm than Hikaku's own.

 

Feeling entranced, he lets his fingers drift down, to brush down Tobirama's jaw, then his neck -- another bad idea, but Tobirama tilts his head up to allow it, still watching Hikaku from beneath hooded eyes, piecing red as though he has a sharingan of his own. Hikaku's touch -- just the tips of his fingers -- lingers at the hollow of his throat for a long moment before settling further down at the stark jut of Tobirama's collarbone. It's safer, and all together more dangerous, because the traditional yukata Tobirama is wearing (Made of dark green Senju linen. Hikaku is meant to cover it with Uchiha blue before the end of the night) has been pulled lose somewhere between the chase and Hikaku's capture. It would be all together too easy to let his hand drift lower. To peel the fabric back and expose more of that enticing skin -- but…

 

"If there is anything I can do to make this…" Bearable. Enjoyable. Hikaku forces himself to drag his eyes up from the skin in front of him to look at Tobirama's face again."…Better for you, please let me know."

 

Tobirama hums, the sound visible in the bob of his throat.

"You're doing fine so far, Hikaku-san." He says even and low. Hikaku blushes. He hadn't meant it to sound like he needed encouragement, and he sort of wishes Tobirama wouldn't keep using the honorific, considering what they -- he -- was about to do.

 

Well, he could handle the shame if it would help keep them from starting off their married life on the wrong foot more than they already were. Marriage hunts have their uses, but if he'd had the choice, Hikaku would have preferred trying to court Tobirama, instead.

 

The woods around them are quiet -- the rustle of wind through the leaves. A lone, distant cricket. Hikaku idly wonders if Madara and Izuna are keeping others away. Marriage hunts don't typically have so many participants as this one, after all.

 

He lets out a breath that he refuses to let shake and reaches down to untie Tobirama's obi as best he can with one hand bound. It feels entirely too easy. Hikaku sets the fabric aside, and Tobirama's hand flexes where it's tangled with his, shrugging the rest of the loose fabric off his shoulders and revealing a muscled chest that's exactly as tantalizing as the glimpses he's already gotten so far. Tobirama is tall, but here, stripped of armor and fur and clothes, he's not as broad as he tends to appear. He's all lean muscle, with a trim waist. The wear of a shinobi life is more obvious beneath his clothes, torso scattered with scars that are silvery and well healed.

 

Hikaku has never considered himself a man overly concerned with vanity, but the sight in front of him -- the fact that it is, by fate or by circumstance his to take -- has heat blooming in his core, up his chest, making him feel bold. He pulls himself forward in one smooth movement, nudging Tobirama's knees apart with his own and marveling at how well he fits between them.

 

He kisses Tobirama. Chaste, but lingering. When he pulls away, Tobirama releases a slow breath, some unseen tension leaking out with it.

 

"I have to admit," says Tobirama, and this close the low rumble of his voice is enough on its own to make Hikaku's fingers twitch with anticipation, "this is not how I expected being hunted to go."

 

"This isn't how I expected hunting to go." Hikaku agrees, a little wry. That he was able to catch Tobirama at all is it's own minor miracle. He's probably going to be leaving extra offerings to Amaterasu for the rest of his life.

 

"Hm." Tobirama hums again, but now there's a sparkle in his eye. Curiosity or mischief, Hikaku can't say, but it’s a relief to see. If Tobirama had wanted this over with as soon as possible, if he planned to lay back and take it, Hikaku would have tried, but the hope that he'll play along get his blood running hotter.

 

Slowly, like Hikaku might deny him, Tobirama's hand comes up to tug at the hem of Hikaku's haori. Hikaku slides it off, silently thankful that he didn't forsake tradition and wear his battle coat out like so many of his other clansmen had. It would have been warmer, and safer had he gotten into a real fight, but it would have lost him the chance to feel Tobirama's hand slip under the fabric of his collar, to have them wander down his chest as curious eyes and fingers map his own freckles and scars. They're unable to fully remove their clothes, hands tied as they are, and every article removed is added to the tangle tying their hands together.

 

Definitely not how a hunt is supposed to go. Hikaku thinks dazedly. He's the one who's caught Tobirama, but he feels woefully out of control of himself. His breath catches as Tobirama carelessly pulls his fingers across his chest, and again as they pass through the coarse hair that leads down to his rapidly growing arousal. If Tobirama wanted to flip him over and claim him on the forest floor, Hikaku would not say no.

 

"Amaterasu preserve me." He groans, leaning in to pull Tobirama into another kiss, this one much more heated than the last. For two people who's job requires near perfect control of their bodies it's sloppy and uncoordinated, and Hikaku thinks -- hopes -- that Tobirama might be just as affected as he is.

 

Hikaku hasn't had many encounters before; he's never had the time to pursue such things, but he's had a few partners, scattered here and there throughout the years. None had ever made him feel like this. They had been nice, but his desire almost feels desperate. Logically he knows it’s the adrenaline -- the hunt, the capture, the surprise of it all -- but some part of his mind wants to label it all as fate. As if a divinity was pushing him forward to claim Tobirama in front of their eyes.

 

His hand drifts lower again, smoothing over Tobirama's ribs and hips and further down, pushing aside the remaining fabric and digging his fingers into the smooth flesh of exposed thigh. Tobirama makes a sound that might have been a lovely sigh had he not cut himself off, and Hikaku --

 

He wants to hear him. Wants Tobirama to be so completely lost to him that he can't control those sounds anymore, and Hikaku knows he's never felt so strongly about pleasing a partner before -- it was always politeness, not a desire, but now --

 

Tobirama is beautiful and powerful and blessed, and Hikaku has caught him. To cherish him only seems right.

 

He pulls away from Tobirama, finally looking down. The sight of him, bright under the moonlight, fully exposed, and yes, interested has Hikaku's entire body feeling hot.

 

He rubs circles in the soft skin and Tobirama's muscles jump, his breath hitches, and this still isn't a dream.

 

He wants to touch, but matched up against Tobirama's moon pale skin the dirt under his nails is obvious and dark. It doesn't feel quite right to touch him like this, but there's nowhere close to wash them, and Hikaku isn't sure he has the patience right now anyways. There are other ways and he's suddenly finding himself very interested in them.

 

Hikaku prostrates himself. It's an awkward movement, especially when Tobirama doesn't immediately let him move their bound hands, but when he looks up he knows immediately that Tobirama gets the picture. His red eyes have gone wide and there's a lovely pink flush blooming across his cheeks and down his neck.

 

"May I?" He asks again, barley above a whisper in the quiet of the forest. Tobirama's nod is tiny again, but there, and it's enough.

 

If he ever were practiced at this, he's out of it now, but this is only the start of the evening anyways, and if the way Tobirama's fingers grip his at just the warmth of Hikaku's breath on his shaft, the other man doesn't care too much about how practiced he is at the moment. Licking a long stripe up the length of it earns him a sharp gasp, back down a tremble of muscle, and taking the head in his mouth a twitch of the hips.

 

No, definitely not how a hunt is supposed to go, but Hikaku is enjoying himself regardless. Especially when a few more bobs of his head has Tobirama finally letting out a punched out groan.

 

"Not that I'm complaining." Tobirama manages, panting, "But there are certain things you need to do before the sun rises."

 

…He's not wrong. Hikaku pulls himself free with a sound that would have embarrassed him not a few minutes ago. He reaches up to wipe the extra saliva from his face, pleased to notice that the flush on Tobirama's face has deepened and spread.

 

"I suppose I'll have to go back for it later." Hikaku agrees. Hopefully that was enough incentive for Tobirama to let him go back for it later. For now, he lets his free hand slide further, kneading at Tobirama's thighs for another moment, then drawing a warm line of pressure down the perenium, to--

 

"…You came prepared." He says, dumbfounded and hopelessly, hopelessly aroused. Tobirama had said as much but the meaning hadn't quite hit him. The realization makes his own cock twitch.

 

"Mhm." Tobirama breaths out on a sigh, spreading his legs wider. His eyes are closed and his chin tilted back; he'd look relaxed if his breath wasn't still coming in panting little gasps. He gestures loosely towards the tangled around their hands. "There's more slick if you need it."

 

That's certainly better than the weapon oil Hikaku had been planning on using. He pulls away and reaches over to search for it, divesting himself of the rest of his clothes in the process. There's more than a small amount of hidden weapons, but the jar he's looking for is easy enough to find among them. When he looks up, Tobirama is watching him again, the twinkle of something back in his eye.

 

(Later, when he has a better understanding of the man, Hikaku will consider if the fact that Tobirama didn't know who he was might have been a good thing. That and the way he immediately had defied expectations would have made him curious, and there is no better way to gain Tobirama's attention than to make him curious).

 

The paste in the jar is thick, and it warms quickly in his fingers. He knows he might seem over-eager but at this point Hikaku doesn't care. He doesn't need to test or tease anything, he brings his fingers back to Tobirama's hole. He's prepared himself so well that it slides in easily, earlier thoughts of dirtiness gone; and though he does clench around the intrusion all it does it make both of them moan.

 

Hikaku feels like he might die before he actually gets anywhere. He's not touched himself at all, but he's so hard that it's starting to ache.  He doesn't give in and start searching for friction, but he does pull himself closer, lets his mouth kiss -- lick -- bite every inch of skin in front of him.

 

Tobirama had been thorough. He hardly has to do anything before one finger becomes two, and with a bit of twisting and scissoring and trying to ignore the way Tobirama is clearly trying not to grind down on his fingers becomes three, and surely that has to be enough, doesn't it?

 

He pulls fingers out, earning a full body shiver and a low breathy "fuck" from Tobirama.

 

"Ready?" Hikaku asks, like he isn't already lining himself up, covering his cock with slick and trying not to cry out,  like Tobirama isn't trying to wrap his legs around Hikaku so that he'll get in him already.

 

"Go." Tobirama hisses, and Hikaku does. One long, tortuously slow slide into a tight heat that felt like nothing he'd ever had before. Both of them groan, but Hikaku can't tell if the shiver that runs through him started with him or Tobirama. Tobirama is gripping at his shoulders so hard that his nails will likely leave intents, but the pain mixes with pleasure and sets his whole body twitching. He's probably about to do the same to Tobirama's hips. Their bound together left hands ache. Hikaku thinks he must call Tobirama a bunch of things, blessed, beautiful, perfect, but he doesn't pay attention to the noise, in the moment.

 

A long breath passes, and then another. Hikaku's heart only has time to start to slow before Tobirama adjusts himself, shifting and clenching and making Hikaku nearly sob with the feeling of it.

 

Tobirama is taller and broader than him and uses that to his advantage, having apparently no trouble getting the leverage to lift up and grind himself down. Once, then again, and again.

 

Hikaku whines. He's not going to last like this, the heat in his body is already starting to coil tight in his groin. But it's too good to want to stop, and Tobirama is panting and groaning, head tossed back like he's feeling the same.

 

The option, then, is to even the playing field, to cant his hips up and meet Tobirama, to loosen his grip on the blessed one's hips and instead stroke his now weeping cock in rhythm with the movement, somehow managing to keep his hand steady even when Tobirama starts to move more erratically.

 

Hikaku isn't certain of the order of things after that, he knows only that at some point he cries Tobirama's name, that Tobirama grinds down hard and clenches around him, that his whole body feels like it snaps, that Tobirama finds his own release near silently, but with a full body shudder.

 

He'll describe it as a religious experience later, and not entirely as a joke.

 

Time feels muddy for a while, but by the time Hikaku starts to regain awareness of his own body again the sky has just barely started to gain the faint pink glow of an impending sunrise. He's loathe to move, his body feels comfortably pillowed where he's leaning his weight into Tobirama, and he finds he doesn't at all mind the weight Tobirama is placing on him.

 

…But they're sweaty, and though the summer night air is muggy enough that they're not likely to get cold soon, he'd really rather not any clan mates finding him still inside.

 

"Do you happen to know anywhere we could get clean--" He keeps his voice low, rolls the name on his tongue for a moment before saying it, "Tobirama?"

 

Tobirama remains still for a long moment longer, a warm breath on Hikaku's neck before he starts to pull himself to awareness too.

 

"There's a creek 600 meters northeast." He pauses, glances down at Hikaku slyly, "Anata."

 

Hikaku flushes. There's nothing in his tone of voice that indicates that Tobirama is anything but serious, but Hikaku suspects he's being teased, regardless. That may be something he'll have to get used to, if the way the night has gone is any indication.

 

He thinks he's looking forward to it.

Chapter End Notes

….No original tags because I am too embarrassed to post this directly onto tumblr lmao. I will give some worldbuilding for the context of this oneshot that I couldn't reasonably fit in.

The legend goes that Amaterasu gifted their clan with the sharingan, but took that gift from people who have red eyes, leaving them weaker (burning in the sun/poor eyesight/you know how it goes). The Uchiha call them blessed, but really, its more of a religious obligation to care for the people their gift comes from. The fact that Tobirama has red eyes *and* is a very powerful shinobi in his own right makes him very desirable, and there had been plans to hunt him peace or not. That he was so powerful and fighting against *them* helped lead some of the more religious folks into peace as well.

(Madara knew better than to tempt Hashirama's rage + risk so many lives with an unwilling hunt, so he tied the opportunity up in the peace agreement. No word from him on if he expected to actually succeed in hunting Tobirama himself or not).

[Izuna] Disappearance

Chapter Notes

One day, at the end of fall, the Senju clan disappears.

Truth be told, they don't know long it's been before they realize. The Senju tend to go on the defensive when it's harvest season, and that usually extends into a quiet winter, at least for as long as Hashirama has been clan head. The lack of aggressive border patrols doesn't raise anyone's alarm.

No, the first word they get at something being wrong comes from a civilian woman, of all places. The kind that show up occasionally to beg the nearest shinobi clan for some charity.

Her village has been all but held hostage by bandits, she tells them, and she'd gone to the Senju who were closer, only --

Only no one had been there.

It had seems like an obvious trap, at first, and if not that, then perhaps the woman had just come across some abandoned place and mistaken it for the Senju village; Shinobi aren't so easy to find without a guide, after all, and the Senju especially keep themselves secreted away in the woods like animals.

Eventually they'd told her they'd look into it, just as soon as they'd figured out what had happened with the Senju.

Madara insisted on leading the scouting group himself, and he stopped in his tracks as soon as he stepped onto the other side of the river. Looked up and down the tree line with wild eyes, sharingan briefly spinning into a Mangekyo that set the rest of the squad on edge.

"There's…It's nothing. And that means something's wrong." Was all he explained before demanding they move onward.

Izuna didn't understand what he meant until they were much deeper into the forest. There is nothing wrong, no hairs on the back of his neck rising, no feeling of being watched -- and there always is, this deep in Senju territory. Related to the Mokuton, he thinks, so it was no wonder that Madara had noticed first.

So -- something happened to their clan head, Izuna reasons. Perhaps the Senju closed their compound in mourning and redirected the woman elsewhere. It's a reasonable enough explanation, but Madara won't settle until he knows for certain, so he stands by his brother's side and follows him deeper into the woods.

It wasn't as though he was wrong. Something had happened to Hashirama, and the rest of his clan with him.

The gates to the compound are closed, but there are no patrols on the walls, and no traps set on the perimeter to slow their approach. Izuna can't help the sick anxiety twisting up his throat. This has to be bait, something to lure them into a false sense of security and their eventual deaths. Nothing else makes sense.

But a glimpse over the wall show no signs of life inside. No people moving around, no laundry drying on the line, not even any noren fluttering in the wind -- for some reason they've all been taken down, leaving the compound dead and motionless.

The dread only mounts as they make their way over the wall and deeper inside. The houses are empty, stripped down to the floor mats. A few traps have been left behind, but not the dangerous ones Izuna had imagined. Just small scale things, meant to keep intruders out of the abandoned buildings. Easily disarmed, but that only adds to the unease.

They will go back and do a thorough search later, but the only clue, from out of every empty room, every cleared out cellar, every spot of turned dirt where it looked as though even some trees were taken, is in the main square. A circle of soot, smudged and stained deep into the stone. The remains of a seal that was used over and over again, already dissolved and unreadable.

The Senju must have used it. Or it must have done something to them. But what, no one has any idea.

 


 

The Uchiha never do quite manage to celebrate the disappearance of their enemy. Some do, and some are so clearly relived that the threat is gone, but as winter goes on the feeling that settles across the clan is one of dread. It is one part fear, not knowing what's happened to them, and one part worry about the future. Their entire lives and the lives of their ancestors are filled with memories of their war with the Senju. If they're gone, if it's over, what comes next?

Madara doesn't believe it is. Cannot accept that they are just -- gone. He gets more involved with their spy network than he ever has before hunting for a hint, and writes the daimyo informing him of the Senju's disappearance, hoping that he will get some answer when the thinly veiled request for dominion over those lands is inevitably rejected.

If your words and the rumors I have heard are true, the reply says, Then I see no reason not to accept the claim your clan has held on those lands.

Convenient, that he only acknowledges it now.

Izuna, for his part, settles on an anger that ebbs and flows between scalding rage and petty annoyance. How dare the Senju avoid the revenge that the Uchiha, that Izuna is owed.

He never lets himself slack off in training during the winter, and despite the circumstances this year is no exception. The Senju are tricky. If that mark was a seal, then Tobirama is no doubt responsible. They'll be back, probably at the most inopportune moment, but he'll be ready.

 


 

It hadn't been so bad, over the winter. There were normally less fights then, anyways, and they'd gotten by whole seasons without skirmishes before. But in the thaw of spring, somehow the anxiety only coils tighter.

Normally this was when they started finding Senju summons tracking their movements. When they'd inevitably get called into opposing sides under for some noble's border dispute and reignite conflict all over again.

Not this year. Somehow, the trees are quieter even on their side of the river. He shivers, when he realizes, but Izuna refuses to think about just how much of what he'd been used to had been the result of Hashirama's bloodline.

There are more missions than normal, true, but it hardly helps things. Their goal was the defeat the Senju, and denied that --

Some want to start picking new fights already, with old Senju allies. Izuna can't say he disagrees, though he knows it's unwise to do without good reason. Anyone who might have been easy to pick off has already scattered banded together with someone else.

Madara has started drinking more often. Izuna doesn't comment. He knows his brother is far from the only one.

(He's reviewed his memories, over and over, he tells Izuna, but the last time he'd seen them nothing had seemed different. It had been on a battlefield, and Hashirama had shouted for peace, had asked what he needed to do to convince him, and Madara had refused to answer, like always. If that had been an ultimatum, shouldn't there have been more?)

(Izuna has looked over his memories, too, but the only difference in Tobirama that day had been darker bags than usual under his eyes.)

Izuna can't stand the mood around the compound; half of his clan mates are acting more like their lover has died than their enemy. He takes those extra missions, and he goes. And keeps going, for days, for weeks,sometimes only staying home for hours at a time because as long as he's on a mission, he doesn't have to think about it.

 


 

It's a coastal town in Hot Water country, and Izuna spots a face that he attacks on instinct -- no care for the fact that they're in a public market -- his heart is busy singing not dead, not gone even as he lunges for the throat of the one who made him think it with a kunai.

It's a sloppy move, admittedly. One that Tobirama catches with an unimpressed glare.

"Must you?" He asks.

"Yes!" Izuna cries, dancing back from a returning blow that -- does not come. His breath is coming in heaves, though the fight is hardly started. He's too exited, and that means he'll get sloppy, but Tobirama isn't even in his armor right now, he's dressed down looking all the world like he's grocery shopping, so it might be even.

"You were fucking gone." Izuna accuses, "Don't think I'm about to let you get away without payback for all the lives you've taken."

Tobirama glances at the crowd that's started to form around them -- stupid move, but they haven't started pulling out flashy shinobi moves yet so they probably just think they're about to see a street fight.

"Figures." Tobirama mumbles. "It's been months already. Haven't you started to see the benefits of peace?"

Izuna sneers, draws his sword and lunges, but for some infuriating reason Tobirama is focused only on dodging, not fighting back. He seems -- disappointed, almost, which only makes it worse. How is he supposed to explain that he hasn't, that without the enemies they've all been born and raised to kill, his clan has started to stagnate into something hopeless and pathetic.

Tobirama catches sword against a sleeved kunai with a clang and holds it there.

"Consider that we've had to give up our vendettas against you, too, in doing this." He says, "Just… Move on. It'll be better for everyone."

An odd look passes over his face, one Izuna will replay in his memory over and over and still not understand.

"Goodbye, Izuna."

A crack of thunder breaks through the sunny afternoon air, and Tobirama Senju is gone, like the rest of his clan, without a trace.

As if Izuna intends on letting it stay that way.

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#basically the idea is just: how would the uchiha deal if their collective rivals just up and disappeared
#My answer: not great! especially not at first
#this idea might appear later in some other fic of mine idk. ive been toying with it but havent gotten the idea to mature more than this

[OC] Deathswap AU 1

Chapter Notes

AU where Hashirama + Tobirama + Madara + Izuna are the ones who died, and their brothers are the ones who lived.

Kou = Uchiha clan head
Kuro = Uchiha clan heir
Togakushi = Uchiha clan sir not appearing in this fic

Kawarma = Senju Clan head
Itama = Senju Clan heir

It is a lovely day, but Kou has opted to have the shogi board set up inside with the fusuma closed.  He's not so dramatic as to darken the room enough to need candles to see by, but the temptation is there -- he likes to set a mood, and more importantly, he likes to prove a point.

Waiting for him, kneeling in perfect seiza on the other side of the board, is the man responsible for keeping Kou from total victory over the Senju clan.

He still does not know quite how; he's been maneuvering for years and had been quite sure that the daimyo would finally agree to seize their stolen lands and scatter the clan members living on them to the four winds. Instead, somehow, the Senju have survived, have ended up as Uchiha vassals instead of dead, and Senju Itama, with his striking two colored hair, had been the one at court when it was announced. He had bowed deeply to the daimyo and given thanks for his mercy, then had turned to bow to Kou and greeted him as his Lord.

In the most infuriating move of all, he had insisted that he had been given orders not to take action until he had reported to his clan head, and though he wasn't able to deny the offer to be escorted back to his clan lands, he had managed to politely rebuff any conversations that went deeper than basic barbs and pleasantry quite skillfully.

Now, though, he's spoken to his clan head -- in person, not the summons Kou knows he sent ahead. Senju Kawarama and Kuro are only a few rooms over, discussing the Senju clan's obligations to their new lords, and Itama has no more excuses to deny him a game and a discussion.

The Senju bows at the waist as Kou sweeps into the room, perfectly formal and polite, as is the way he averts his eyes.

Hah. Yes, that's going to be a change in etiquette that will be a pain to force the Senju to accept. Now isn't the time to push it though. Instead he hums, "It's lovely to see you again, Senju-san. And -- ah, what a nice board you've set up for us."

"You as well." Itama has seated himself on the white side and will be playing second -- Kou respects him enough to know it must be deliberate, though to what end he cannot yet say, "And thank you. It was actually grown in one piece by the last member of our clan to hold our kekkei genkai."

Ah, so it would have been one of Itama's long-dead brothers, then. Terrible thing, killing one so young, but it wasn't as though there were many options to deal with someone with the potential for so much disruptive power; not when they were still at war. He could do better now, but it isn't now. Kou is unsure what the Senju is trying to do by evoking the dead, but if it's a try at getting an emotional reaction, he's not going to get it.

"Interesting." He says, "I hadn't known it could be used for craftsmanship."

Which is a lie, and an obvious one, but Itama does not call him on it. He does, however, stiffen as Kou activates his sharingan. It's not obvious, Itama's composure is very good, but when faced with a sharingan there are some reactions that just can't be hidden. The slight thinning of lips, the locking of muscles, the speed of his pulse hammering in his throat.

"I like to remember the games I've played to go over them later." Kou says with his most disarming smile, "You won't mind."

"Of course not." Itama agrees easily, voice betraying nothing, "I await your move."

Kou slides a pawn forward, faux careless in his selection. He's not one of those fools who believes that one can see into a man's soul from how he plays the game, but he will admit there is some insight to be had. A few moves pass in silence, the Senju going for a traditional, defensive opening, and quickly foiling any chance Kou might have had at a gambit and a quick win.

Ah, well. More fun to play it out, anyways.

"I must say, you keep beautiful gardens here in your clan compound." He says. It's nothing, just probing idle small talk, but the corner Itama's lip curls.

"We do." And then, "If you don't mind me saying so, Uchiha-sama, there's no need to work up to your point. I'm ready to hear it."

That startles a barking laugh out of Kou. What an exercise in contractions Senju Itama is! He's clearly afraid of him, must hate his clan, yet he holds himself so calmly -- he's the only one who has ever truly challenged Kou, politically, yet he speaks so bluntly. How bold!

"Oh you misunderstand." Kou purrs as he captures one of Itama's pawns, "I didn't come here with a point, I simply find myself quite enchanted and wished to learn more about you. That's all."

"Ah. Well I suppose that I'm flattered then, thank you" Itama replies, voice genuine and his face not twitching a bit to prove otherwise.

Yes, he is good, and if allowed to remain with the Senju clan he will become dangerous. There are many ways Kou could have gone about this, but Itama has postured himself as a man who appreciates directness, so he'll try that first.

"Truth be told, I'd love to take you out of here." He admits, and there is a pause in Itama's hand as he goes to move another piece -- capturing one of his pawns in fact, though doing so doesn't actually improve his position by much, "As lovely as the gardens may be, you must be aware that the things needed to help adjust a clan to becoming vassals are… Difficult. I simply think you'd be better suited elsewhere, with your talents. Somewhere where you might live a bit of a nicer life."

Yes, quite a lot of his clan want to make the Senju live in misery, but if Kou is to let them do that, it will have to be subtle. If they mistreat their vassals, they will look like bad lords, and may even give the Senju enough argument to try and demand freedom again -- given their circumstances, becoming subservient was actually the best protection the Senju could have asked for.

Itama hums neutrally as he appears to study the board. They trade a few quick moves before he asks, "We hardly know each other as yet, what sort of work could you possibly have in mind?" The steadying breath he takes before meeting Kou's eyes is silent, and his gaze is challenging.

"Oh, I'm sure you'd do well no matter what I asked of you, Senju-san, but I wasn't thinking of putting you to work." He glances down only long enough to capture Itama's gold general, "Marriage was more what I had in mind."

He's good, but not that good. That casual declaration clearly scrambles Itama's thoughts and delays his next turn for a long moment before his expression settles into something unimpressed.

The Senju and Uchiha clans are not equals now, not that Kou thinks they ever were, and that demotion is so fresh that there is next to no chance of any marriage between their clans being a balanced one.

Not that Kou was lying about giving him a nicer life! It would not do for the head of the Uchiha clan to mistreat a concubine of his, after all.

"…One of my brothers died defending me from the Uchiha." Is how Itama responds a long moment later, picking up the game again and moving to defend his other general. He speaks evenly, without hostility, despite the subject, "It took me a long time to come to terms with it, but I decided that the best way to honor what he'd done for me was to live my life as freely and happily as I am able."

Itama's eyes remained fixed to the board as they trade a few inconsequential moves back and forth, "So, Uchiha-sama, assuming you are giving the option, I'm afraid I will have to decline." He moves his rook back to the position it was in the turn before, and looks up with a ghost of a smile. "I am, however, amenable to being courted."

Kou almost laughs again. Bold, indeed! A shame he cannot force the issue, or he'll run into the same problems with mistreatment that his clan is certain to complain about in the coming days. He smiles back, knowing and not caring that his smirk makes him look like cruel madman.

"Perhaps we can revisit the offer later."

"Perhaps." Itama agrees. Then he takes his turn. Moves a piece, and says, "Ah. It appears we've reached a sennichite."

…A repetition draw. Kou had been more focused on Itama's reactions than the game, but when he thinks back on the past few moves find that the Senju is right. What a blunder on his part -- and when was the last time there was someone capable enough to make him do that?

"So we have." Kou agrees, letting his sharingan fade, "I think it's time we check on our brothers then. It was an interesting game, Senju-san. I hope you'll join me for another soon."

He thinks he means it too. Senju Itama is someone he's going to have to keep a close eye on, indeed.

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#This was the the idea where I was like oh its all ocs so i probably wont write it

#PSYCHE. TO ME. OOPS.

#oops i thought about it and now im gonna write more uhh oops!!

#so now i dub this au

#deathswap au

[OC][/Itama] Deathswap AU 2

Chapter Notes

cw: suggestive

By all means they should have paused to freshen up after traveling from one compound to the other. Certainly, they should at least take a break after having been attacked on the way, but Kou didn't even dirty his sleeves defending them, and made certain that Itama didn't either.

"It was well done, my Lord, but to owe you a favor…" Senju Itama diligently follows him to the pavilion Kou has set up for them in advance, "Why, you didn't even give me a chance to show how well I could defend myself."

Kou fights not to roll his eyes. Yes, if their clans weren't what they were Kou wouldn't have even tried to demand a favor for what otherwise should have been his duty to a vassal, but he'd wanted to try. A lesser man might have stumbled, but Itama is of courseNwell aware of the dangers of being in debt to someone like him. Considering they're here to discuss his clan's tax contributions Kou hadn't expected the Senju to send any but their best; he's certain Itama won't be giving him any leeway.

Ah, but it's more fun that way.

Kou gives a theatrical sigh, "Ah, but the whole point is that you shouldn't have to defend yourself, yes? Still, I suppose I see your point. But if I can't ask a favor, then perhaps you'd be willing to answer a question of mine instead?"

He glances back to see Itama wearing that unimpressed expression that looks so charming on him.

"You wound me by implying I wouldn't answer anything you ask, Uchiha-sama." He says, "Of course I will; it's only that I cannot promise you'll like the answer you receive."

"That doesn't matter to me." Kou waves off as they reach their destination. A pot of tea and a bundle of scrolls already awaits them there, "The truth is more valuable. And besides, I only want to know what it is you did to get the daimyo to grant your clan mercy."

Because that's what it was, and that is the question that has been itching at Kou the most ever since he'd managed to bring the Senju low.

Itama blinks at him, lips slowly curling into in incredulous smile.

"Is that all, Uchiha-sama? It was nothing complicated enough to require all these dramatics. Your clan may be the daimyo's darlings, but it's not as though he hates the Senju. All I had to do--"

And here, Kou suffers the worse lapse of self control that he has ever had in his life.

Itama smoothly drops to his knees, close enough to press a cheek to his thigh. His stomach lurches and his sharingan flares too life without his conscious input, forever burning the signs of Itama fluttering his mismatched eyelashes and saying, "--was get on my knees and beg for it."

Itama pulls away not even a breath later as though his movements were nothing, just a coincidence that happened as he was moving to sit in seiza. And Kou is --

Has he ever been this unbalanced? He reaches for composure through his mangled thoughts but he can't manage to grab it; not with that memory already on repeat. Not with the admiration of just how well Itama had played the game -- because there's not a hint of victory in his expression to remind Kou of the manipulation that he knows it was. That Itama has done it so well only makes his heart speed and his thoughts skitter away worse.

Itama smiles at him again as he sinks down to his knees to join him, apparently guileless as he reaches to pour them tea. No one has ever found Kou's weak spots and exploited them so easily before. No one else could. And now here he is going into negotiations hardly able to find his words.

He'd known Senju Itama was a dangerous one, he'd just thought himself that much better.

Hah.

 Well played to him, then.

Chapter End Notes

Tags on original post:

#me desperately trying to explain to you the toxic drama I am trying to build here

#kou sees it all as a big game and is having a great time playing

#but if he ever actually wins he'll break his toy. because winning means itama loses everything

#but by that point kou will be so obsessed that itama refusing to play will mean HE loses. do you get it? do you get it?????

[Itama] Blessed Eyes AU

Chapter Notes

They send Hikaku to tell him, because Hikaku is the only one of them who knows how to deliver bad news with anything resembling tact.

They've never acknowledged the awkwardness of the situation to his face. He's a Senju, he's their born enemy, and they're supposed to keep him safe and happy and content while at the same time keeping him away from his family, who they're constantly trying to kill.

Well -- they were trying to do that. Now they're trying to make peace with each other, and part of that had involved admitting that they'd had a Senju living, chakra sealed, in their compound for years. He would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that conversation, but he suspects he's only going to get any freedom after he gets moved into the village they've been building, and that really depends on how this reveal goes.

"I'm so sorry Itsuki-san" Hikaku bows deep to him, hiding a face that had, for a moment, twisted in genuine sympathy, "We informed them of your survival and they did not remember your name, nor the names of your family. Tobirama-san said he would look into the records, but in all likelihood --"

"It's alright." He cuts Hikaku off, turning to hide his own expression because he doesn't know what it will look like right now, "I suspected as much."

They think his brothers are dead, and they're not really wrong. Kenta and Jiro have never existed. Technically Itsuki doesn't either, though he's been using that name for so long that he thinks of it as his own more often than he doesn't these days.

His brothers are fine, and he knows it, because Hikaku just mentioned one of them and he certainly would have heard if something had happened to the other. The Uchiha had thrown a whole celebration when they'd killed his father, he doesn’t doubt that someone would at least come tell him if they'd killed Hashirama, too.

"I'd still like to see my clan again." He lets his voice shake, though its nerves, not sadness like he's sure Hikaku assumes, "Is there any way you could get me to see the head?"

He could probably tell them who he really is. In fact, he probably should, but he can't perfectly predict what their reactions will be. They probably won't stop him from seeing his brothers again, but they could, so it's not worth the risk.

Everyone will be mad anyways, waiting probably isn't going to make it any worse.

"Oh that's no problem Itsuki-san," He looks over and finds himself matching Hikaku's weak smile with one of his own, "he practically insisted."

 


 

Everyone had been reasonably sure that the Senju weren't going to harm one of their own, but 'everyone' only includes Izuna rarely, and never when he's being paranoid and nosy. His demand to act as an escort is as annoying as it is familiar, but it does have it's benefits. For one he doesn't even have to ask Izuna to try and get them there unseen, and for the other Itama is going to get to see the look on his face when he realizes exactly who he is.

The house doesn't look anything like he remembers it, but it shouldn't, considering it's an entirely different building. There are a few similarities in style, though, and he'd bet that they brought over the old shoji screens and fusuma panels -- but he can't say for certain. All the wood looks new, and it makes his throat close up; not for any nostalgia, but because he can see all the little flourishes and details, and Hashirama had hardly been capable of growing the flower that he'd been meaning to when they were kids. He knows that people apparently call his brother the God of Shinobi, that a house isn't even on the low end of what he's capable of now, but they'd all been just stories. The house is real and his brothers are inside and somehow he's only realizing just now that he's got no idea what he's going to say to them.

Itama runs his hand over the wood of the nearest post and swallows hard, looking helplessly at Izuna who has his arms folded, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"I'm sure he knows we're here." Izuna grouses, "…Tobirama, I mean."

"...I know who you mean." Itama's response comes out a little to weak to be a tease.

Izuna reaches out to knock on the wall and announce their presence regardless. He's was right, though, because the door slides open only a few moments later.

To his great shame, Itama doesn't recognize his brother on first sight.

Time has apart has eroded away at his memories. Hashirama was always kind to him, even when he wasn't patient, and he smiled a lot, but Itama can't remember his face. He can't remember Tobirama's either, but his mind always conjures up a smear of white and red. The man who opens the door isn't colored like that at all.

Tobirama never used to wear the disguise he'd made for them at home -- a deceptively simple seal to darken their hair and eyes, the first one he'd ever mastered so they stood a chance of leaving the compound and being as useful as everyone else. He would always complain about the waste of chakra and deactivate it as soon as he deemed it safe. With it on, he looks like a perfectly generic Senju man: tan skin, dark brown hair and darker brown eyes.

Those dark eyes flicker over Izuna for a brief moment before landing on him and going wide. Izuna chastises him about something -- genjutsu? Something Tobirama just did with his chakra, which Itama still can't feel thanks to the seal on the back of his neck. They don't acknowledge him.

Itama hesitates because it truly takes him a moment to recognize who he's looking at, because his mouth has gone dry and his heart too fast. But even then, he recovers faster than Tobirama, who's gone deathly still.

"Hey, Tobi-nii." Itama's voice comes out rough. He tries for a smile, but in return Tobirama makes a choked off noise, he reaches out, but drops his hand before they touch, fingers twitching. He could have just been run through with a sword and the expression on his face wouldn't look out of place.

"Tobi-nii?" Izuna's voice interrupts them, high and shrill. Itama glances over and knows that he doesn’t really get it yet, doesn't believe it, or doesn't want to. Tobirama's eyes snap to him too.

"Whatever you're doing to seal his chakra, get it off him right now." He's furious. His voice cracks but it makes him sound more like the moments before a glacier breaks apart and starts and avalanche than anything weak.

Izuna whines in response, high pitched and confused.

"Tobi-nii?" He asks again, but does actually scramble to obey, for once. Obey Tobirama, which Itama knows will be a novelty to remember. He bites his thumb deep enough to draw blood and Itama easily bends his head forward enough to allow access to the seal. It's only a temporary solution, Itama knows, he'd managed to convince some Uchiha to do it for him a time or two, when the seal was still new and the sensation of having his chakra bound was still uncomfortable, but it's enough, for now.

The unfamiliar feeling of someone else's presence floods back, a sensation so nostalgic it makes heat prickle behind Itama's eyes. His brothers always had so much more chakra than him, and the disparity has only grown worse since he hasn't been able to train with his in years.

The feeling of Tobirama's chakra wrapping around his, prodding at it, checking it over, is as overwhelming as it ever was. Comforting, too.

"Itama." Tobirama breathes, jerking forward, "Otouto."

They're nearly the same height now, but Tobirama's hug engulfs him all the same. Tight enough that Itama can feel the tremble in his limbs, can feel the damp seep through his clothes where his older brother has buried his face in his shoulder and -- oh, he knows his memory has holes, but Tobirama never cried, did he? He always seemed so strong but the sight of him is enough to have him shaking apart and --

Itama feels the guilt creep in. He missed his brothers, he really had, but…

He'd been under surveillance, yes, and chakra bound, but deep down he knows that he didn't try to get back to them as hard as he should have. It was just… Easier. The Uchiha treated him kindly, for the most part. They didn't expect him to kill anyone, didn't try yell at him for feeling sad in front of them. The longer he stayed with them, the harder it was to think about leaving and going back and having to fight them. And then -- they'd managed to make peace, and he didn't have to, which is great, it really is, but up till now he'd been telling himself that his brothers were so strong that they could get by without him. That they'd grieve and move on and probably be better for it, not having to defend their weak baby brother all the time.

But all the time he'd spent in that plush cage, he'd known they were alive. And they'd thought, really thought, he was dead.

His tongue is too heavy behind his teeth to find the words for it, and before he can try there's another voice.

"Hey, Tobi, is that our guest or --"

Hashirama stops mid sentence, cutting himself off with a low, wounded sound.

He's gotten stupidly tall, Itama notes absently, and he grew out his hair, and even has the beginning of wrinkles around his mouth and eyes.

Itama didn't recognize his voice.

Itama swallows painfully, works his throat enough to croak out, "Hey, Hashi-nii."

Izuna whimpers. No one pays him any mind.

"Itama?" Hashirama says, looking and sounding faint. "I thought --- we didn't hope --"

"When they told us they had a Senju we didn't dare hope--" Tobirama's voice, still muffled in his shoulder, catches. "Even once we found out about the eyes, I knew that you were in disguise. I thought--"

He breaks off, somehow squeezing impossibly tighter.

Itama's eyes are locked over his shoulder on Hashirama, who's tears are already starting to run over his cheeks and onto the ground.

"It failed when I ran out of chakra." Itama's voice has fallen to a hoarse whisper, "They uh -- stopped. When they realized. Captured me instead. I--"

Hashirama has been approaching him slowly, as if he were a frightened animal, but he's finally close enough to reach out and cradle Itama's face in his hands. The burning behind his eyes finally gives way and Itama sobs.

"I'm sorry." He wheezes, "I-- I'm--"

"Oh, otouto, no." Hashirama circles around and pulls them both into another hug, but his voice is wavering too, "Whatever it is, you don't have to apologize for surviving, okay?"

None of them resist when Hashirama pulls them all down to sit on the ground right there on the engawa. He's buried his face in Itama's hair, and Itama can feel his lips moving over and over again in some silent prayer.

It's not the first time they've sat like this, he remembers now. The night after Kawarama's funeral--

He stops paying attention who how long they sit there, content and comfortable with the way they've surrounded him.

Itama thinks Tobirama must have gotten control of himself first, he's stopped trembling, but he seems content not to move just yet. Hepulls himself together with a few heaving breaths -- his arms are too pinned to wipe his face, so he does it on Tobirama's shirt instead, and doesn't get a single complaint for it.

They have… A lot to catch up on, he thinks. Them more than him, because his days tend to blend into a lot of reading and crafting and poking at Uchiha -- he stopped pretending he was looking for weaknesses years ago too, but he's a little less ashamed about that. He never wanted anyone to die, even before he got caught.

He glances up from his brothers shoulder and locks eyes with Izuna. He's not remotely surprised that he's stayed but the picture he paints, stiff and uncomfortable, leaning on the wall of the house and looking as far from casual as a man can get. It is, admittedly, a funny image.

"Your name isn't Itsuki." Izuna accuses, frown etched deep. Tobirama turns his head, and whatever look he shoots Izuna has him looking faintly green.

"…I don't think you can go by a something for a decade and a half and not have it become your name, at least a little." Itama ribs tiredly. But gods, he's so exhausted already, and he hasn't even gotten to any of the arguments he knows are going to happen, "But, I know that's not what you're asking, so… Uh… No. My name is Senju Itama."

He doesn't explain anything more. His brothers are still wrapped around him, so he's pretty sure he doesn't have to.

Surprisingly, it's Hashirama who speaks next, voice so controlled and even that it sounds threatening.

"Your clan," He says, "Has been holding my little brother prisoner for years. I really don't know what to do about that, to be honest!"

"He's --" Izuna sputters, going all prickly defensive in the face of the head and heir of the Senju clan staring him down with murderous intent, "We told you, alright? We protect people like him, even from their own clans who think sending out a kid to run messages in a war zone is a smart idea!"

Tobirama actually growls in response, and Itama sighs. He had been hoping to avoid this for a while longer at least, but…

"No one do anything stupid." He punctuates his point by knocking his shoulders into each of his brother's in turn. "They didn't treat me badly after taking me, and they didn't know who I was."

He'd had nearly all of the freedoms of any other blessed one by the end of the first year, and no one had been particularly unkind to him even before then. Most Uchiha considered him a victim of the Senju more than they did person from the clan.

"They sealed your chakra!" Tobirama protests.

"He was still a Senju!" Izuna insists, "Of course we couldn't let him--"

"You're not helping!" Itama cuts him off cheerfully. "My point is, that since the clans at peace now, I'm not a prisoner anymore, right?"

Izuna really doesn’t have the authority to make that decision, but putting him on the spot to flounder over it is as funny as Itama hoped it would be.

"Uh." He says gracefully, "Uh, I--"

"We're not giving him back." Hashirama announces, forcefully enough to shake Izuna from his stupor.

"Wh-- Now hold on." He scowls, "He's still our responsibility, you can't--"

"He's our family." Tobirama all but snarls, "Who you took, you're the one who can't--"

"I think," Itama starts and marvels at the way everyone's attention turns to him, "That this is a great argument for why I should get to move into the village, no?"

Hashirama laughs, loud and booming and still wet with tears. He leans over to rest his cheek on top of Itama's head.

"Yes." He agrees, "Yes, I think it is."

Chapter End Notes

Tags on original post:

#artisian crafting everyone lives aus more dramatic and complicated than you can even imagine
#idk how much sense this makes without the context but . maybe you will enjoy it regardless

There's more in the universe of this fic: here

[Hikaku] Itama Senju

Chapter Notes

The Uchiha clan has every right not to trust outsiders with their health.

Unfortunately, the Senju have healing techniques worth risking it for. Even more unfortunately, the injury Hikaku had taken to his left arm had been noticed, and even worse than that, the Hokage had suggested it would be a show of good faith for him to go to the hospital that his clan has taken charge of running. And Madara had agreed.

So now here he is, tense and nervous in a waiting room chair because just the act of being here is a signal of weakness that no shinobi should ever willingly send. The long stares and flustered glances of the people manning the intake desk haven't helped improve his mood

"Ah, Uchiha-san?" A vaguely familiar voice calls.

Hikaku looks up and locks eyes with one Senju Itama, who is one of the most immediately recognizable people in the entire village despite the fact that his reputation is entirely shadowed by his brothers'. Dual colored hair is swept up in a high bun, though some fly-aways have started to pull loose, and a few larger strands dangle loose around his ears. He's in a doctor's coat, but there's nothing on him to indicate that he pretty much runs the building.

The head of the hospital probably doesn't need to see him for a broken arm and dislocated shoulder, but perhaps this is just the good faith he's supposed to be offering being returned.

The Senju gives him a small smile, "If you're ready, I can see you now."

Hikaku nods, hiding a grimace of pain in the collar of his battle coat as he pushes himself to his feet and follows. Instinct has him examining the back so easily offered to him. There are no obvious weapons, but there's no way Itama doesn't have something on him. Medic types tend to go for senbon, which are easy to hide -- besides that, the Senju may be the shortest in his family, but he still has a good few centimeters on Hikaku and a not insignificant amount of muscle. With his broken arm, Hikaku would be at a significant disadvantage if they got into a brawl.

…Which is not going to happen, Hikaku tiredly reminds himself. Because it would cause a political incident, which would negate the whole point of him coming here. And because Senju Itama, from everything he has seen and heard, is as mild mannered as they come, and is also holding the door to an exam open for him. The look on his face is somewhere between the compassion Hashirama might wear and Tobirama's analytical gaze. Hikaku ignores it and walks into the room, arm twinging in pain as his muscles reflexively tighten as he hears the door close behind him.

"You can sit on the table there, Uchiha-san." Itama says softly. He's gotten a clipboard from somewhere and is already marking down notes on it. "Is there anything else besides the break and dislocation?"

Hikaku seriously considers lying for a moment, because he wants to be out of here as soon as possible, but good medics always seem to be able to tell that sort of thing and make your life hell for trying.

"Just some minor bruises and scrapes." Hikaku grits out, hoping that wont extend the time he's kept here even longer.

Itama hums and makes another note before looking up to make eye contact again -- which Hikaku only now registers as unusual. Most Senju still don't.

"Well, we'll deal with the worst first. Are you alright with me using a medical technique to examine your arm?"

Hikaku blinks, and Itama waits expectantly. He had been assuming thats was where this was going -- after all, what was the point of coming here if not to experience those techniques. He's not sure if he's actually being given a choice, but the illusion of one still feels kind enough to unwind some of the tension that had been building and making his shoulder ache even worse. He exhales.

"What exactly would that entail?"

The corner of Itama's eyes crinkle. Rather than upset at being questioned, he looks pleased.

"I would use my chakra in a series of specific highly compact sensory bursts to determine the severity and nature of the damage, which is painless and non-invasive. After that, if you're willing, I would use another technique to directly stimulate the regrowth and repair of injured cells. I can also temporarily reduce the pain your nerves are transmitting as well."

Hikaku mostly knows the words he's just heard, but that all seems very…

Well it seems like it's something that no one should casually admit to being able to do, which is to say that it seems very Senju.

"…How does the recovery time compare to letting it heal the natural way?"

Itama smiles at him, one cheek dimpling.

"I'd have to see the damage more specifically, but for bone breaks full recovery tends to take about half the time, and for minor fractures most people leave clear to go back to light duty."

Which means that it's way too useful to pass up on, no matter how dubious Hikaku feels about the matter.

"Alright." Hikaku agrees, "That sounds… Good."

Itama only nods. "I have to touch you for this as well. Are you alright with that?"

Hikaku can't decide if he's thankful or annoyed that he keeps asking. He thins his lips and nods.

"You can tell me to stop at any time." Itama says. He steps closer, telegraphing his movements like he knows the proximity has set Hikaku's heart thundering. If he'd had time to rest before coming here, perhaps he wouldn't be so paranoid, but he hadn't, so Hikaku watches warily and braces as Itama's hands light up a soft mind green and reach towards him.

…It doesn't hurt.

Izuna has been through this before, and he had described the feeling as being overwhelming. Like drowning in someone else's chakra, and hideously painful and uncomfortable. Granted, his wound had been far more severe, but it had set Hikaku up with a certain expectation that's not being met.

The foreign chakra brushes across his senses feather-light and almost cooling. The pain of the break fades to a dull ache, and then, slowly, to nothing at all.

"This may be a bit unpleasant." Itama warns him, and Hikaku braces for what is mostly nothing. The cool sensation grows until it's mildly uncomfortable, but not more than that. It's like a chilly winter wind that saps away all the warmth, but it never starts hurting, not even when Itama slowly lifts his arm to pop the joint back into place. The longer it goes on the more Hikaku feels the tension leech out of his shoulders. Pain relief so instant and without any apparent side effects is… Nice.

Itama steps back, looking Hikaku over with a critical eye.

"Take care to watch for inflammation and take it easy for the next few days, but you should be fine. The break was clean. Do you want me to heal the smaller things as well? Or I can bandage them up to heal the slow way."

"I…" Hikaku almost rejects the offer on reflex, but now that what is presumably the worst is over he feels a little silly over how worried he was. If he's already taking the easy way, why should he stop now? "Yes, if you don't mind."

Itama nods and reaches out again, seemingly already aware of where the worst of the cuts and bruises are.

"Thank you." Hikaku finds himself blurting, "For -- this. I've been impolite, but you've been very accommodating."

Itama smiles again, but he doesn't look up from where he's focused on Hikaku's other hand -- numbing the sting of a scrape so minor Hikaku hadn't even realized it was there until the pain was gone.

"You're welcome, Uchiha-san. And don't worry, you've been a model patient. You wouldn't believe how hard it can be to get people to just sit still sometimes."

Maybe that's not surprising; shinobi are a jumpy bunch at the best of times and being injured only makes it worse. He can use himself, today, as the perfect example of that. He resists the urge to duck his head.

"Well… I'm sure that once people know how useful this is it'll get easier." Hikaku honestly means it, too. Because he's fine -- coming off one of the worst missions he's ever had --certainly the worst in recent memory-- and he's going to go home tired and fine.

"…You'd think that, but sometimes I have trouble convincing people who have grown up with the option to use it." Itama sighs, resigned or amused, Hikaku doesn't know him well enough to tell, and continues his work, chakra easing the strain in his muscles and fading bruises to pale yellow.

"…Actually." Itama says after a moment, pulling his hands away, "Do you think if we taught more people how these techniques work, it would make them more willing to use them? I don't really know how else to encourage it short of forcing it."

…Like Hikaku basically had been, though he's not certain if Itama knows that or not. That aside --

"Oh, I Think so, yes. I mean, it's a trust thing right now, isn't it? And the more people who know how to heal like that, the more likely it is that someone who needs help will know someone who can do it."

More practically, Hikaku is pretty sure that the number of Uchiha who have managed to get that technique to work for them in all of the history he knows is in the single digits. There's clearly some secret to it that the sharingan can't copy. If Itama is willing to share even a fraction of it, the clan needs to know. Or-- the village does. Both, since that's the same thing, now.

"That is…" Itama steps back, "A good point. And I think I'm all done here, so you're free to go, Uchiha-san."

"Oh. Thank you." Hikaku slides off the table, rolls his shoulders and test his muscles. There's the burn of exhaustion, but compared to how he'd come in, it's like a miracle.

"Of course." Itama smiles at him again, "Come back any time."

Chapter End Notes

Tags on original post:

#itama is not mild mannered btw
#if this was a full fic hikaku would learn that itama can manipulate his brothers into doing anything he wants
#anyways this brought to you by me learning that itama/hikaku only has a singular fic on ao3
#sorry i lost track of my brain and forgor how to write immediately after

 

Despite that I decided not to tag this with the ship because this doesn't actually go anywhere near that. Maybe I'll write it someday!

[Izuna] Testing

Chapter Notes

From a tumblr ask meme, where the prompt was "Send me an anonymous ask completing the sentence "I wish you would write a fic where... [izuna and hashirama conspired]"

"Ah, Izuna-san, thanks for coming!"

"Sure." Izuna responds dully. As if he really had a choice. Hashirama has been duly elected the leader of this little mess that everyone is calling a village, and now Izuna is obligated to answer to him. To a Senju, which stings, but not so badly that he can't bear it. Mostly it hasn't been an issue, because so much of the work they've done to make this nonsense work is by committee -- but today it just might become one. The -- former, now, as of his election -- Senju clan head has really never had cause to talk to Izuna one on one like this.

His skin prickles as Hashirama leans back and activates a privacy seal. Izuna doesn't let the tension in his chest bleed over to his expression, since all that seal does it stop eavesdroppers. The security seal that would prevent him from leaving hasn't been touched. Maybe the Senju has noticed anyways, because he flashes Izuna a lopsided grin and leans back in that stupid home grown office chair of his.

"I hope you don't mind if a cut to the chase," He says, "There's a mission I want your thoughts on."

Something in his tone make's Izuna attention sharpen. It's ever so slightly different than normal. Calmer than usual, or maybe more serious. Whatever this is, it's gotten Hashirama to drop his usual buffoon act.  There's no scroll to be seen, so this mission is likely one of those, where linking paperwork to the deed is just too dangerous. Izuna has his done his fair share. He raises an eyebrow.

"Well I'm sure your brother has already said his piece. What's with all the secrecy for a second opinion?"

"Ah… No. I don't send Tobirama on missions like these for… A variety of reasons. And this one is very need to know."

"…Missions like?"

Izuna lets himself look suspicious, and Hashirama's smile dims, though, it doesn't fall completely. There's nothing that Hashirama should trust Izuna to do for over his own brother. So far the Senju hasn't seemed the type to eliminate his enemies by sending them on suicide missions, but Izuna is well aware that he still doesn't know the man well enough to know.

"The daimyo has asked us to assassinate a political rival of his. Make it look like an accident, you know how it is." Which is not the sort of mission the Uchiha have gotten in a long time. Those sorts of requests only go to the most well trusted and well placed in court, and neither the Uchiha or the Senju have been in that position for ages. As if reading his thoughts, Hashirama goes on, "I suspect this is a test, of sorts. And I thought, well, maybe it’s a good opportunity to test something out myself!"

Assuming that mission is real, someone's going to have to do it. Izuna crosses his arms and waits for an explanation. For once the Senju gets to the point.

"I've realized that as the Hokage I might be in need of some people who serve me directly instead of going through the mission office. And I thought…"

"Me?" And not his brother? If it were just an assassination mission, sure, Izuna can agree he's more suited to it since Tobirama is disgustingly unsubtle for a shinobi. But to do, what, act as an aide?

The Senju's stupid big brown eyes crinkle with another smile.

"You!" He agrees, "Really, if you've done even half of what Madara has told me you'd be perfect for this, and, well…" There's something sharp in the Senju's expression, a look Izuna isn't certain he can ever recall seeing there before, "When it comes to things like this, I thought it would be best if I asked someone who would keep me accountable."

He's insane, Izuna thinks, and not for the first time. He's either insane, or he's toying with us all. And if it's the latter, what the hell is Izuna supposed to do about it on his own? At least with this on offer he can keep a closer eye on him.

"I'll be telling my brother you sent me on a mission." He challenges.

The Senju's smile melts back into it's usual fake cheer, "I was thinking a delivery to rice country would be the perfect cover. I already have the wine you might have brought back as a souvenir!"

Izuna snorts, mostly out of disbelief with himself, and steps closer to lean over the desk. "Which I would give to nii-san and not to you, so don't you dare crack the seal on it. Now fill me in on the actual details."

Chapter End Notes

Tags on original post:

#okay this promt actually blasted open my hashizu third eye. like.
#okay anbu commander izuna is good. great even.
#but I didn't realize until just this moment that not ONLY does it kinda hit the bodyguard/guarded dynamic
#but in this specific version the person being guarded does not need guarding at all. in izuna's eyes the world needs guarding FROM hashirama
#so he spends so much time watching him. and sees all the ways that he was wrong about that.
#and all the ways that he was actually not wrong about that. At All.
#mortifying ordeal of knowing your enemy
#anyways anon I also wish I wrote a fic like this. perhaps someday…

[Izuna] Disappearance 2

Chapter Notes

Did a celebration on tumblr for a follower milestone and took votes for, among other things "what fic of mine you want to see a followup to"

Chapter 18 of this collection was the winner, this is a sequel to that.

Izuna does not see Tobirama again for five months. In the meantime he gets to watch his clan chew itself to pieces.

 

Theories are invented as quickly as they are discarded-- The Senju have fled fire country and abandoned Tobirama. He's sent them all into the summoning realm and was forced to stay behind. Most popular of all, his clan members whisper between them that Tobirama killed his clan, and their ghosts have cursed him and their old compound.

 

"Not unless he completely snapped," Izuna finds himself defending. The Tobirama he'd seen in Hot Water gave no impression of a man gone mad. Izuna knows him -- or he thought he did before his clan disappeared -- and he knows that if Tobirama is insane, then he's been so his entire life. Which is a possibility, -- but he'd said 'we' when he'd talked about giving up their vendettas, so Izuna really doesn't think so. Much more likely, he's in the middle of some plan, and Izuna needs to know what.

 

"And not unless his brother let him." Madara agrees, though he's less confident, and that means the whispers continue.

 

It means that no one can form a consensus on what should be done. Groups formed to hunt the Senju down have already found nothing. A forward camp has been established in their old compound for months, but even the elders grow hesitant at suggesting anything further. What if it's the land itself that ate them? People whisper, What if we're walking right into the trap that the Senju fell into?

 

Izuna finds that he doesn't care about any of it. Sell the land, give the abandoned compound to some other clan entirely, none of that matters to him.

 

After he'd returned with the news of just who he'd seen the very next thing out of his mouth was, "Since we're not at war, there's time for me to go on a more personal mission, isn't there?"

 

"Not personal." Madara had answered, "If you're planning on hunting him down and getting information from him, that's important to the whole clan." 

 

The elders had agreed, and Izuna had gotten nothing but support for the idea. They’re in agreement that  no matter what strange new tricks he has, there's no one better in the entire clan for dealing with Senju Tobirama.

 

And so he goes hunting. His network of spies have already been keeping tabs on the man since before his clan went missing, but with them gone, their focus narrows down to only him. Anyone with silver-white hair, anyone with red markings on their face, or red eyes, anyone who's Senju tall, or with a suiton mastery, or who wears a fur collar or even just a little too much blue, Izuna hears about them.

 

Nearly all of the leads are nothing at all, but it's worth sifting through the trash to find the gems. Senju Tobirama was seen in the capitol, buying books. Less than a week later, he was seen in a mountain town on the other side of the country, discussing the price and weight of a shipment of iron -- where to was apparently never mentioned.

 

When Izuna finally sees him again in the flesh, it's in a cramped, dimly lit store, buying a bottle of locally brewed sake. There's no windows and only one door so in theory Izuna could ambush him at the one exit there is, but he's already pulled the disappearing trick once. He steps inside with his sword already drawn.

 

"I'm afraid that's going to have to be my final offer." He says in the same breath that he turns to block Izuna's strike. The store owner yelps and dives under the desk, but the two of them linger, blades crossed.

 

Izuna takes in the sight of him, desperate for some clue. He's still without armor, a bottle of sake tucked under one arm, though he has his sword with him this time rather than just the kunai. Tobirama looks him over right back. His face is unreadable, but as those red eyes finish their slow drag up and down, the Senju sighs.

 

"Quit causing a scene." He says, condescending enough that it makes Izuna's blood boil, but before he can act on it, Tobirama makes a single hand sign and disappears into thin air. In such a small space the boom of whatever technique he's using is deafeningly loud.

 

He is admittedly more harsh with questioning the shopkeeper than he needs to be. Civilians don't tend to need genjutsu to force their secrets out, but after having come so close only for Tobirama to give him nothing? Izuna can make sure the only thing he remembers from the ordeal is a splitting headache, anyways.

 


 

Izuna finds him again a month later, buying a bolt of silk brocade in Lightning Country and it's reflex more than anything else that has him reaching for his sword. They don't even come to blows; before they can Tobirama glances at him -- brief, dismissive, red eyes lingering on Izuna's blade --  and is gone without saying a single word.

 

That's about when Izuna realizes he needs to change his tactics, but planning an ambush requires knowing where Tobirama is going to be, and any trap needs to get around the unknown that is the Senju’s sensory ability. It's a hard ask, but It's better than thinking about how Tobirama’s complete dismissal of him twists in Izuna’s gut like seeing a lover after a nasty breakup.

 

The other option is to make an attempt at talking, which feels like where the Senju is trying to lead him after his earlier comment on the benefits of peace, but Izuna can't imagine why. What information could the Senju possibly want from him in a situation like this? It's sobering, a little, to realize that aside from the death of the Uchiha, Izuna has no idea what Tobirama is interested in enough to tempt him.

 

Except for, apparently, luxury goods. Most of the sightings he can confirm are actually of the man, he seems to be spending some obscene amount of money on things a shinobi has no real practical use for. Expensive gyokuro and the finest porcelain to drink it from, paired with wagashi that costs more than an entire mission's pay. Jewelry, clothes, ink and paper. So much ink and paper, of every conceivable type, though that's the least surprising of his purchases.

 

The rumors shift and grow to say that Tobirama robbed his clan's coffers before he killed them all. Izuna weighs the fact that he's buying women's clothes and ornaments for hair longer than his own with the knowledge that he's not even taking any great care to hide what he's doing, and he wonders.

 

Izuna remains rivals with Tobirama, their skills growing together as they always have. But it's not their combat abilities that are improving these days -- Izuna's skills in tracking grows in leaps and bounds, right alongside Tobirama's ability to avoid detection.

 

Izuna is the first to hear when the man starts asking around for copies of a certain print, and quickly gives the order to his people that they should seek out and BUY every copy of it that they can find. It's not a cheap endeavor, and yet when he brings it up to Madara, and then to the rest of the clan, he gets not only encouragement but volunteers to go seek out more. He finds himself bitterly impressed at the lengths his clanmates will go to for one more chance at ruining a Senju's plan.

 

Izuna himself goes to find the copies as well, and that's where he meets Tobirama again. Izuna has found the shop first this time; is examining the very print he knows the Senju is after when the white-haired man steps through the door.

 

Izuna can't help the way he tenses, but he forces it out of his body with his next breath and pretends at nonchalance.

 

"Ah, Senju. Looking for something?"

 

Tobirama stops in place, his expression flat as always but voice oozes unimpressed, "I am, but I suspect you know that already."

 

Izuna smiles, saccharine and eye wrinkling as he rolls up the print, feeling very conscious of the way he can't hold a weapon in his hands as long as they're occupied by paper.

"I can't say I know what you mean." He says, "But if you're looking for something of mine, maybe we can trade."

 

Tobirama only raises an eyebrow, and Izuna lets his smile drop.

"I just want to know what happened to your clan."

 

"Ah." Says Tobirama, "No, I don't think anything you have is worth that information."

 

It takes conscious effort for Izuna not to crumple the art in his hands.

"You don't think so? What's your wildest offer? I might do better than you think."

 

He nearly regrets asking -- if Tobirama demands a breakdown of the sharingan, or the secrets of the mangekyo, the rest of the clan might agree that it's worth giving them to him, the state that they're in right now. Izuna might even be convinced to too.

 

But Tobirama only snorts.

"I want an actionable promise that the Uchiha will no longer seek out conflict with the Senju."

 

Izuna stares, and only stares harder when the corner of the Senju's mouth ticks up at his lack of response.

 

"You want… a ceasefire." He tests out slowly, "For a clan that's gone missing?"

 

The other side of the Senju's lip twitches up in the most infuriatingly smug little grin Izuna has ever seen. I know where they are, that look says. But at least he's gotten confirmation that the Senju still exist.

 

"I do. Every bit of information I give you will lead you closer to them. Are you saying that, if they knew my clan's location, yours wouldn't go after them right now?"

 

Izuna has no answer for that. They would, and he knows they would, and he's also nearly certain that if the price of finding out what happened to the Senju means not getting to kill them, most of his clan… Would take that deal.

 

When Izuna fails to find a retort, Tobirama sighs.

"As it stands, my clan is living a life more peaceful than they have in years. Yours should be too." Should be, yes, but they don't know what to do with it. "Reasonably, I should tell you nothing at all at let it stay that way."

 

Izuna senses a but. He needs there to be a but, because as Tobirama frowns he's hit with the sudden realization that there's nothing stopping him from disappearing like the rest of his clan and leaving Izuna with nothing at all. 

 

( How dare the Senju be the thing that the Uchiha measure themselves against? How dare they abandon that duty? How are they supposed to know their worth without them? Those are the thoughts that have started to plague Izuna at night now, and he staunchly does not think about how lucky he is that Tobirama is the Senju that's remained behind. How narrowly he's avoided the desperate scrabble for purpose that has consumed everyone else he knows.)



Yet, he can't quite stop himself from saying, "I find it hard to believe you'd do -- all this, just for peace with my clan."

 

"Don't believe it then." Tobirama counters, "My brother is the one who wanted peace with you, which is why I'm even offering. I'm perfectly content to let my clan continue living on without you and yours anywhere near them."

 

The worst part is that Tobirama doesn't even know that he has all the cards. By all rights, Izuna should say that it won't be necessary, that the Uchiha are as capable of carrying on without the Senju as Tobirama claims that Senju are without Uchiha.

 

Izuna's mouth has gone dry, his fists tight. He knows that he will say no such thing.

 

"I suppose you need time to think on it." Tobirama goes on dryly. Red eyes drift down to the paper still in Izuna's hands  "As for the print… Not worth picking a fight over. I'll make due with something else."

 

He shakes his head, turns to leave, and says over his shoulder, "I'm sure you'll find me again when you want to talk."

 

Izuna hates that he feels pleased by the admission.

 


 

 

The next time Izuna finds him, he's just bought a cow.

 

It's one of those fancy fat ones that's been kept free from stress its entire life, and to buy the animal in its entirety will have cost more money than Izuna has ever held in his hands at once. He appears to be trying and failing to coax it out of its pasture and down the road without using too much force.

 

The bafflement the Senju is so clearly facing when trying to deal with a big stupid animal is enough to slightly soften even the sour mood Izuna is in. The cow turns to graze on some foliage and the Senju wears what can only be called an expression of despair as it ignores the way he tugs on its lead to instead investigate a leafy vine that's grown onto the dirt path.

 

He stares at it for a long moment, unmoving, so Izuna takes the opportunity to drop from his vantage point in the trees and call out "Oi, Senju!"

 

He tosses the scroll case he'd brought with him in an easy underhand, the arc nothing like the weapons he's so used to throwing at him. It gives the Senju plenty of time to determine that it's not a threat and catch it from the air. He takes his time examining the container before opening it up, and Izuna watches it all from a fair distance, arms crossed.

 

It was far easier than it should have been to write up a ceasefire. Izuna hadn't even pushed for it, he'd just relayed Tobirama's offer, and what he'd always assumed was impossible happened in front of his eyes. But -- everything about the situation was already impossible to begin with -- What harm could a ceasefire be with a clan that's not even there to be fought with, anymore? That's the stance the elders settled on, anyways. All Izuna had to do was not argue and in less than a month he was being handed a scroll and instructions to use it to wring Tobirama for every drop of information he's worth.

 

Not, he thinks, that it will be much. Tobirama's eyebrows fly up upon actually reading the papers inside, and he can't have read more than a few lines before he reaches into his sleeves, pulls out a brush and ink, lays the ceasefire agreement on the flank of the cow, and starts making changes.

 

Izuna counts backwards from ten in his head, until the immediate urge to choke the Senju to death banks down into a mild irritation.

 

"So." He says after a moment, "What did you do to your clan?"

 

Tobirama's eyes flick up to him for only a moment.

"You understand how vague that question is?"

 

"I understand that you know what I'm talking about." Izuna forces himself to take a deep, steadying breath, like he would before blowing a white-hot katon right in the Senju's face. Imagining that does help him calm down, a little, "I brought you your ceasefire. Consider your answer a sign of good faith."

 

Tobirama pauses writing for a moment.

"I created a seal that allows for mass transport of people and goods over long distances." He says after a beat. "Which my clan then used."

 

Then he holds out the ceasefire,ink still shiny and wet. Izuna does not scream at him, and instead marches over and snatches it out of his hands.

 

The new terms are --

 

Well they're as plain as they can be. Tobirama has hardly added anything new, and instead struck out all of the maneuvering the elders had tried to make about reparations and information being owed. As it is, the ceasefire is as simple as don't kill each other, don't go out of your way to take missions where we'll be made to kill each other, and if you do, you'll face punishment.

 

He's apparently so satisfied with it that he's already signed it and threaded his chakra through the paper.

 

Izuna stares at it, then up at Tobirama who is coolly looking right back at him.

 

Fuck it all, Izuna thinks, and he brushes past the Senju to use the flank of his stupid expensive cow as a surface to sign it himself. He was explicitly given permission for this, and assumes no less of Tobirama.

 

As soon as the last character of his name is down and the paper warmed through with his chakra, he spins on the Senju.

 

"Where is your fucking clan? "

 

He catches Tobirama looking stunned for a moment, and then the corner of his eyes wrinkle like he wants to laugh at him, or maybe even smile. Whatever that look is, Izuna is sure he's never seen it on his face before.

 

"Now why would I tell you that?" He reaches out, brushing his hand down the cow's snout like that's far more interesting than their conversation, "Besides, I'm certain you can figure it out on your own."

 

Then he disappears, like he tends to do, these days. And he takes the cow with him.

 

Izuna stands still for a long moment. He looks around, makes sure no one is around to hear him, then he screams at the top of his lungs.

 

The act is enough to drain the rage from him, surprisingly efficiently. He expects to be left fuming, but he isn't really. Now that the source of his irritation is out of his sight, Izuna is left feeling more determined than anything else.

 

The war may be over, but the hunt continues.

 



Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#when I wrote the original oneshot for this my thought process for where the senju went was basically:

#hashirama marries into the uzumaki. and not the other way around.

#and for whatever political/tobirama driven reason the rest of the clan just went with him

#(which probably only makes any sense if its an au where the senju clan is fairly small so lets go with that)

#in this case uzushio is like. super secure no one gets into or out of it without permission.#due to a combo of seals + dangerous waters/terrain

#but bc of the hirashin tobirama is able to easily come and go. and so... He gets sent on errands

#(which double as him doing some maneuvering for political favors and so on and so forth)

#BUT its not included in the actual text bc all the other interpretations i read were so fun

[Hikaku] [Hika/Tobi] - ...Marriage?

Chapter Summary

Fic done for tumblr follower milestone celebration.

Chapter Notes

Considering that he's still recovering from an illness, Hikaku should have been in bed for hours already. Instead he stayed up and made tea for his guest, some part of him unwilling to send him home and put an end to the strange warmth of the past few days.

 

It's been nice having someone stay over to take care of him like this, and Hikaku is certain that Tobirama wouldn't do that for just any of his student's guardians. Or coworkers. Or occasional mission partners. The fact that Hikaku falls under all three categories may have influenced Tobirama's decision, but privately, he hopes that his motivation was more personal.

 

The two of them drink their tea in companionable silence, Kagami sleeps deeply a room away, exhausted from Tobirama's efforts to keep him occupied. The domesticity of it all makes Hikaku's heart twist with something like hope. He wants more, wants to ask if he can have it, and yet at the same time finds himself wary of asking for too much. Tobirama just spent days cooking for him and making sure his fever was under control and looking after his ward. He's probably eager to return to his own home and a night of solitude.

 

So when the pot of tea is emptied and Hikaku moves to wash it, he keeps an eye on Tobirama as he turns down the hall. He stops to look in Kagami's room, his face softening as he takes in the sight of his student, no doubt sprawled across a futon, but when he turns to go down the hall to Hikaku's room, rather than leaving, Hikaku clears his throat. His voice is still slightly hoarse from illness, and Hikaku swallows down a cough so that his next words will be believed, "I truly appreciate your help over the last few days, but I'm well enough now that I'm sure you could go home. if you'd like."

 

Tobirama turns to him with a slight frown, and it's pure selfishness that has Hikaku hoping that he will protest, even if he knows that he'll end up insisting that Tobirama go home.

 

"I don’t think I understand." He says, quiet enough to not risk waking Kagami, "Would you rather move into my house? It's smaller, but I suppose it's no hardship to get Anijia to add some extra rooms…"

 

He trails off, eyebrows furrowing as he considers the logistics, and Hikaku can only stare. This happens sometimes, where Tobirama gets ahead of himself and leaves everyone else behind. Hikaku has been getting better and pulling him back and making him explain himself, these days but he's not quite sure where to start with this one.

 

"No, I mean…" He hesitates, not wanting to seem overly rude, "I'm feeling better. So you don't need to stay if you don't want to."

 

Tobirama leaves the dim hallway to join Hikaku again in the kitchen. He's frowning -- some would say that Tobirama is an angry or even expressionless man, but Hikaku has come to find that there is a wealth of emotion in his frowns. This one seems thoughtful.

 

"I'm not sure why I would, unless you see a need. Don't married couples typically cohabitate?"

 

Hikaku's mind runs blank for a long moment -- much as he would like to blame the lingering sickness on the way he can't pull a thought together, he knows that's not why. He carefully sets down the cup he'd been washing.

 

"Pardon?" He manages after a moment, and it's a minor miracle that his voice doesn't crack. "When did we become a married couple?"

 

Hikaku wasn't sick enough that he wouldn't remember something like that, and he would have known otherwise, but Tobirama's frown deepens to look something like concerned.

 

"Four days ago." He says. "Or three months, depending on which clan's traditions you're honoring."

 

"Oh?" Is about as much as Hikaku can manage to vocalize in response, leaning heavily on the countertop. If Tobirama is joking, he can't tell, and he doesn't know if he wants him to be or not. Tobirama crosses the kitchen and leans in close as if to examine him. He meets Hikaku's eyes.

 

"You didn't know." When Hikaku shakes his head dumbly, Tobirama takes him by the elbow to pull him away from the kitchen and into the tatami room. Tobirama has touched him like this before. More commonly, recently, but on top of everything else it has Hikaku's entire body warming enough to make him dizzy. Tobirama glances at him from the corner of his eye.

 

"You should sit down." He says. And Hikaku does, as soon as he's near enough to a cushion to do so. He scrubs at his face for good measure, too. Tobirama joins him a moment later, same as he had when they still had tea to drink, but now he sits with his chin in one hand, finger tapping at his cheek in thought.

 

"I think this must be some sort of cultural difference." Frustratingly unruffled by it all -- though that's just Tobirama, really -- "Technically you proposed to me. Twice over."

 

"Did I?" Hikaku finally finds some words, however faint they may be, "Would you mind… Explaining?"

 

Tobirama nods, but he doesn't respond right away, finger still tapping away.

 

"I think I might understand where the misunderstanding started." He says after a long moment. "When Kagami asked me to teach him and you allowed it."

 

He's gotten ahead of himself again, Hikaku thinks, forcefully numb so as not to become hysterical. Kagami had come begging to let the Senju teach him years ago, back when the village's survival wasn't a sure thing and Tobirama was looked at with wariness by even the most peace loving of the Uchiha. Hikaku had thought long and hard about it, how it might make peace more likely to work, how Tobirama  -- stranger that he was at the time -- would have better opportunities to re-start the war than to hurt a child. Mostly, he had been convinced by the brightness in Kagami's eyes that he hadn't seen there since the boy's mother had died and Hikaku had been the only one left to take him in. Saying that was where it all started was correct in many ways, but Hikaku still has no idea how that relates to them being married.

 

The look on his face must clue Tobirama into his incomprehension, because he tilts his head and continues.

 

"…It's considered traditional in the Senju for a teacher's first student to join their family in one war or another, be that marriage or adoption. But I don't have a child of my own near Kagami's age, and he already has a guardian." At Hikaku's continued silence, he prompts, "…Which left you and I coming to an agreement."

 

"We don't do anything like that in the Uchiha." Hikaku replies carefully. And then, louder, unable to help himself, "You're saying I proposed to you that long ago?" And you never said anything?

 

"Not exactly. Technically, I should have started courting you at that point, but the political climate was…" Tobirama hums, still so infuriatingly calm about it all -- but why wouldn't he be, he's apparently known this whole time, "…Not exactly ideal. And I thought that a relationship built on mutual trust would be a stronger one."

 

"I suppose I can agree with that. But… If that wasn't the proposal, what was?"

 

"The end of last fall." Tobirama says immediately, "We took some time after work to visit a tea house and ended up coming back here."

 

Hikaku nods. He remembers. Specifically, he remembers feeling like had fallen too deep in his feelings and staying up the rest of the night after Tobirama had left, wallowing in what to do about them.

 

"I left my fur collar behind. You returned it in the morning."

 

Tobirama stops speaking, as if that's all there is to say. Hikaku blinks. His head feels so stuffed he half-wonders if maybe his sickness has actually worsened and this is some kind of hallucination.

 

"And… that was the proposal?" He finally gives in and asks.

 

Tobirama nods, but his frown returns, disapproving at Hikaku's tone.

"Of a sort. Traditionally you would have stolen it from me, and I would have won it back from you by hunting something for you. If you accepted it, we would be married by Hatake custom."

 

"…The deer." Hikaku says, dumbstruck. Tobirama nods, looking a hair smug.

 

That had been one of the stranger things that had happened to him in recent memory, and in hindsight he really should have looked more into it. Tobirama had been gone on a mission and when he had come back the first place he had gone had not been the hokage tower or his own home, but to Hikaku's and with a freshly hunted buck over his shoulders. And because it was Tobirama, he had assumed that it was purely practical. That he'd stumbled upon it, didn't want to waste it, couldn't bring it to his brother because Hashirama didn't eat meat. And he'd hoped -- had been right, apparently -- that maybe it was a part of Tobirama's odd way of showing affection, had accepted it, even though he'd never processed and animal that large before, then forgotten to question it when Tobirama spent the afternoon walking him and Kagami through it.

 

In retrospect, Tobirama had become markedly more physically affectionate after that. Hikaku had just thought they had bonded.

 

"But… You didn't move in then." Hikaku tries, in an attempt to make some sense of things.

 

Tobirama's eyes dart away at that. If he were anyone else he would look chastised.

 

"I was aware that there was a chance you weren't familiar with the custom, or didn't understand it fully. And-- Well, I'm not a Hatake, I'm a Senju." He pauses, biting at his bottom lip in an uncommon show of hesitance. "In their eyes, even for a private relationship, I needed to declare that I would take care of you to our clan head, and not be challenged."

 

Which happened about four days ago, by Hikaku's estimation. He'd heard it, had been flattered and half-convinced he was dreaming at the time, and the way Tobirama had come home with him, and made him food and kept his fever down and watched over Kagami, and he'd wished more than once, that things could stay that way.

 

"Hold on." He says, and activates his sharingan for a brief moment, just to be sure. But it's no genjutsu. The pull of chakra makes his head begin to ache, again and Tobirama's eyebrows shoot up, though he doesn't startle or tense like he used to.

 

"…I don't think Madara-sama realized what you were doing." Is all he can think of to say, for some reason.

 

"Hmm… I suppose if you didn't there's a good chance he didn't either." Tobirama tilts his chin up as he thinks. "Is that a problem? I can tell him tomorrow."

 

Is that a problem. Hikaku can't imagine he'll take the news of a surprise marriage well, and he'll take it worse if he hears it coming from Tobirama.

 

"Uh--" Hikaku tries to interrupt only to start coughing. It's not as bad as it has been for the past few days, but it's enough to have Tobirama leaning forward to rub between his shoulders -- which in turn makes Hikaku's face heat, and Tobirama frown and reach forward to take his temperature, like he thinks his fever has returned. Hikaku leans back before he can decide he needs another dose of medicine.

 

He takes a wheezing breath. "I should probably be the one to tell him." And then, when he realizes that he's going to have to explain this -- which means some part of him has already just accepted it. Tobirama has been quietly planning on marrying him for years, apparently, and has managed to do so without Hikaku even noticing. That is --

 

"You know, you really are an excellent shinobi." He takes a measured breath and shakes his head at Tobirama's questioning look, the squirming in his chest that feels like it could have become tears or uncontrolled laughter at any moment fades, just a little. "Well, alright. What about Uchiha marriage customs?"

 

"Did I miss one?" Tobirama eyebrows furrow, "I know my gifts weren't all traditional, but I felt like they were more likely to be used if they were useful."

 

"…Your gifts -- ah." If he thinks back on all the little things Tobirama has given him since he started teaching Kagami, he probably has managed to meet all the criteria for a proper courting. He was always the one to replace Hikaku's tea in the office when it ran out, would hand him a new bundle of exploding tags on missions -- which were probably handmade, knowing him, and he uses the stationary set and inkstone Tobirama had given him nearly every day. He just -- hadn't been thinking of them as that sort of gift.

 

Hikaku blushes so hard that it makes his jaw ache, but he forces himself to carry on, "Your gifts were fine, but my clan doesn't really acknowledge a marriage without a ceremony of some sort. At the temple, preferably."

 

"Ah." Tobirama closes his eyes, resembling, for a moment, a cat that's just smelled something it didn't like, but drops the look a moment later, "If it's important, then we ought to."

 

Something warm blooms in Hikaku's chest, peeking through the shock. He'd been spending so much time hoping, but maybe it really can be this easy.

 

"I'll let you know." His voice nearly gives out at the end, weak still weak from his illness. "But I think I need to lie down, for now."

 

He's not exaggerating, the conversation has left him feeling exhausted, and it must show because he hardly even tries to stand before Tobirama is there, helping him up. Even once he's on his feet, he keeps his hands here on Hikaku's wrist, and there, near his elbow.

 

And that's not even new. Coming from Tobirama... Hikaku feels silly for not realizing there was something going on.

 

They stand like that for a moment, face to face, before Hikaku looks down to see the way Tobirama's touch lingers.

 

Is there even a reason for him to be shy with what he wants any longer? Honestly.

 

"You know. If we're married there's no reason for you to sleep in the guest room."

 

"You're probably not contagious anymore." Tobirama agrees, "I'd be interested, if you'd have me."

 

"Yeah." Hikaku reaches out and takes Tobirama's hand back, "I'd have you. Let's go to bed."

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#and then hikaku got a solid 8 hours and woke up well rested :)

#….great fic to start the new years on right? Right

#Imagine if YOUR your crush was being really nice to you and noticing you

#And you were like haha what if I confessed someday

#And then they turned to you and were like. btw we've been married for months

[Multi] Five Sentence Fics

Chapter Notes

From an ask meme on tumblr, where the asker provided the first sentence of the fic, and I wrote the next five(...ish). Unrelated to each other

i.

"You didn't think this through, did you?"

Tobirama doesn't intend to answer, but when it becomes clear that the mokuton vines he's struggling against have no intention of letting him go, he scowls.

"I thought this through extensively." He bites out, "If I didn't end up where I intended to go, it's because there's some variable I couldn't account for."

"Uh-huh." Hashirama's lips are still twitching where he's trying not to burst into laughter again. "I dunno, maybe this was fate saying it's we should some time together. It's been a long time since you've visited my garden -- let me show you some of what I've been growing."

"Anija-"

"Or, you can apologize to the seedlings you crushed." His brother carries on, smiling. Tobirama pointedly does not look at the furrows he's left in the dirt. Probably, Hashirama intends to make him apologize to all thirty of the uprooted plants individually, no matter that he can replant them with a flick of his wrist.

Tobirama does not sigh as his brother lets him up and starts tugging him along to see the new buds on his favorite rhododendron. There are worse consequences to having an experiment fail.

 


 

ii.

"Modesty is an adornment," Izuna always used to say with a coquettish smirk on his lips and a glint in his eyes that downright dripped with arrogance and self-confidence. 'And I'd bet you've never worn it a day in your life' was usually Tobirama's sourly thought reply.

The thought doesn't come now, though. His head runs unusually empty as he looks at the ponytail that's been unceremoniously cut and pushed into his hands. An Uchiha battle coat is shoved in his arms a moment later.

"Well?" Izuna prompts. There's no mirth in his expression now, just a hard determination as he pulls clothes taken from a corpse over his shoulders. "Shove it in a sealing scroll. We don't have all day."

 


 

iii.

"I'm not the one being unreasonable." Izuna's nails bite into his palms from the effort of keeping his voice low, but from the glance Madara shoots him, he hasn't managed to sound convincing enough to make him rethink anything.

His brother stares at him for a long moment, then sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder gently pushing Izuna until he's at the door of the shrine. It's a clear dismissal, and at this point Izuna doesn't even know how to argue against it anymore.

"I guess I didn't really expect you to understand yet." He says, like he's disappointed that Izuna didn't accept his rambling plan to betray everything he's built in one fell swoop. "Sleep on it. Maybe your dreams will enlighten you."

 


 

iv.

It wasn't the first time that was the problem. That could be excused as a once off coincidence. If they met a second time, well, it wasn't as though they planned to do it. And if Hikaku slips off after Madara as he goes to the river, and a gangly white-haired Senju boy finds him for a third-- fourth -- fifth time, it's not his fault. Hikaku doesn't know how he finds him, and like so many things between them, he doesn't ask. If they ever get caught, knowing is more dangerous.

[Tobirama] Spirit Troubles 1

Chapter Notes

When Hashirama comes of age, they throw a party.

He's thirteen, so much younger than civilian families do it, and despite that he's already been running missions and fighting in battles for years now. Already killed men more than twice his age, though he'd cried about it for weeks afterwards.

He sits rosy cheeked and smiling through the first hour, so pleased to have everyone's attention on him and the blessing that is his mokuton. He's fidgeting by the end of the second, and to all of his son's surprise, Butsuma dismisses them all to go enjoy themselves at the feast rather than have them sit there and endure a tea ceremony.

Back then, Hashirama had been much more obvious with his scheming and had leaned in and whispered about how he bet he could get them to throw him another party when he turned twenty. Kawarama and Itama had nodded in eager agreement, and Tobirama hadn't said anything which meant he did too. They'd ducked between legs and under tables and huddled up together under lantern light to share soft buns swiped from their baskets.

When Tobirama comes of age, he dies.

There weren't any talks of holding a party for him, and planning one wasn't even the beginning of a thought on his mind. Itama's funeral was only two months ago. Even if someone had asked, Tobirama would have refused one.

He wakes up on his birthday to a strange half light outside, and he peers out a crack in the door to find that a thick fog has formed some time during the night, obscuring everything more than a few meters away and casting everything in a monochrome blue-grey. The whole world feels muffled and Tobirama finds it at once eerie and oddly peaceful.

But he can't let himself indulge in it for too long. The sun is up, which means chichi-ue will be up, and breakfast will be soon. So he dresses himself and goes to the kitchen and… It's empty. Untouched, even. No sign of father, nor of the auntie that normally would have come and gone with food by now.

Troubling.

Chichi-ue would only break his usual routine for an emergency, but it must not have been one bad enough to wake his sons for. Or at least not him, but he might have brought Hashirama, depending… Tobirama experimentally stretches out his chakra to see if his brother is still asleep, but what he finds only makes him frown deeper. Hashirama's chakra feels as muffled as everything else does, not in the way it curls in on itself with sleep, but like there's something blocking him off from feeling it fully. A layer of cloth that keeps him from finding the edges.

Tobirama doesn't pause for even a moment before turning around and marching right back the way he came, until he's at the door to his brother's room. Chichi-ue would expect them to handle their own affairs, even without him there, so it's best if he doesn't let Hashirama sleep in, anyways. Refusing to acknowledge the way his heart is pounding, he slides the door open.

It's not Hashirama's room. Or, it is his room, everything is arranged in the way he likes to keep it, only it's like it's suffered years worth of neglect in a single night. Tree roots have broken in from the ceiling, the door frame, from cracks in the wall, and around them other wild growth has sprouted making the room look more like the forest than even the garden around the house.

Despite his chakra sense insisting that Hashirama is in his futon, to his eyes his brother is not there. Instead there is a white shape, maybe the size of a cat, but it lifts and turns to look at Tobirama when he opens the door. Its face is blank and smooth, except for two empty holes where eyes should be. 

Tobirama slams the door closed. So it's a dream, then. He thinks hysterically, or a genjutsu. But when he flares his chakra as strongly as he can, nothing changes, and when he pinches himself all that results in is a red welt rising on his pale skin.

If it's not either of those then… Then Tobirama really needs to find someone and figure out what this emergency is about.

Forcing himself to breathe steady, he slowly stretches out his chakra sense again, ignoring the way it insists that Hashirama is still asleep in his room. Probably, he needs to find someone who feels real to his senses -- which happens so immediately that Tobirama snaps his chakra back hard enough to make him wheeze.

It’s in the next room down, the room he's only been in once since the funeral. His senses must be broken, he thinks, because they've just told him that Itama is inside, delicate flower-bud new-growth chakra the same as the day he died.

Like he's compelled, Tobirama pads down the hallway to Itama's room. His hands don't tremble as he reaches out to open the door, but his stomach lurches despite his best efforts.

This room isn't as overgrown as Hashirama's was, and there are chimes and charms hanging from the ceiling that Tobirama doesn’t remember being there, but he doesn't have eyes for that. Because sprawled out on his futon, the way he had in life, the way that always made Chichie-ue scowl and reprimand their youngest brother like it was something he could control, is Itama.

Tobirama swallows hard. He doesn't dare move and break the moment. If this is a dream, it's an unexpectedly kind one.

Yet moments stretch on into minutes and nothing shatters. Itama remains right where he is as Tobirama carefully crosses the room to kneel down next to him.

His younger brother snuffles and rolls over onto his side, able to sense a presence nearby, but not yet paranoid enough to wake because of it. Tobirama reaches out a hand -- it still does not tremble, but his throat feels suspiciously tight, and his eyes are burning -- and drops it onto Itama's head.

Itama grumbles, but that is enough to wake him, albeit slowly. When he squints open his eyes and sees Tobirama, though, he sits up all at once.

"Nii-san! Oh!" He exclaims, and then he lurches forward and hugs him. Tobirama hugs back, tight, of course he does but-- He hadn't noticed it before, but like this it's strikingly obvious that Itama is cold to the touch. He can feel no pulse or breath, even though he continues to ramble on.

"I meant to be awake to greet you, but I didn't think you'd started getting up even earlier! Sorry, that must have been pretty freaky." His words pass through Tobirama's ears like water. Itama died, and now Tobirama is here, able to speak with him and hold him again. Does that mean he's died as well? An assassin slipped into his room and killed him before he could even wake?

Itama pushes out of Tobirama's arms and onto his feet, but he stays close, frowning down at him. He's so small, still so small. Two months might have made a world of difference for a child his age.

"I died." He chokes out, because he can't think of anything else over the tide of shock. I'm dead, I've died, I've left Hashirama alone.

"Eh, uh. Not exactly. This is something else." Itama says. He reaches out with tiny cold fingers to tug at Tobirama's arm.

Tobirama blinks. Swallows hard.

"But, you--" Died. He chokes. Is this, then, some kind of retribution Itama's ghost is seeking on him, for failing to get to him in time to save him? Tobirama will admit that he's deserving of it. And so he lets Itama frown and pull him to his feet, out of his room, out of the house entirely, into the fog covered Senju compound. Though, he talks the whole time

"Shigure-sama says I'm supposed to help you. I mean, I was always supposed to. I guess it's pretty lucky that I can, still." Itama chatters, heedless of the way Tobirama is fighting not to break out into shivers.

He tries to focus on the words, but he can't. So he looks at the buildings, but they're not where they should be, and when they pass by them close enough to get a look at them through the fog, they're all wrong; older, and where some are missing additions that they have in life, others have rooms, even entire stories that they didn’t have yesterday.

Distantly, Tobirama can't help but note that Itama is leading him to the graveyard.

"It's normally more lively around here, but I think everyone's staying inside, since Shigure-sama is being dramatic." Itama turns at him, and smiles and waves a hand around to stir up the fog. Tobirama… Grips his hand tighter. He doesn't know what else to do.

He missed that smile.

Itama squeezes back and keeps pulling him along. "Also it still is really early, so there's that, too. Hopefully I can introduce you to everyone later? I mean, no one will actually be mad at you for going to see Shigure-sama first."

Tobirama has stopped trying to make sense of his words, but the wash of them is comforting, in a way. Maybe that's even what Itama is trying to do, but it can only help so much. They're in the graveyard now, and there are shapes in the mist that look more like humans than grave-markers.

One of them bends close enough for him to get a good look at them. It's Hinoki-san, who died last fall, and as pale as the mist around them. She smiles at him.

Head swimming, Tobirama fully expects Itama to lead him to his grave, or maybe Tobirama's own, but instead he walks straight past all of them, and onto the path into the woods behind.

Tobirama doesn't visit the shrine often, but the path is longer than he remembered, and the trees are taller.

"Itama." He says, so quiet that it's almost lost even in the near silence of the woods, "Who is Shigure-sama?"

"Oh! Uhh…" Itama rolls his lips between his teeth, and Tobirama very nearly tells him to stop, because it's a bad habit for a shinobi to have. But that -- doesn't matter any more, does it? The admonishment sinks into his stomach instead. "He's like the boss around here, I guess? Definitely the oldest and strongest, so."

"Okay." Tobirama says softly, and Itama nods and keeps pulling him along. It's not much longer before the shrine looms out of the fog. Tobirama mechanically follows Itama's actions as they stop at the fountain to wash themselves -- it's a bit redundant now, isn't it? -- and then to the haiden, where he claps and bows and shouts "Presenting Tobirama-Senju to Shigure-sama."

Woodenly, Tobirama bows with him, but he can't help a sideways glance at his little brother. No one ever taught him to announce someone like this, he's sure, and he spoke far more confidently than he would have if he'd been made to do such a thing in life.

For a moment, there is nothing, and then reverberating in his bones, "Ah. Well at least he knows his manners even if he knows not his purpose."

Tobirama looks up -- and up -- and up. He had been half expecting --insofar as he could think enough to expect anything -- Shigure to be the ghost of some monk. A shrine keeper from ages past who's duty had kept them here past their own life. What he sees is not a human, but a long whiskered snout, mother-of pearl scales, silt pupils, antlers, a serpentine body that stretches back into the mist that is expelled with each breath.

That -- is a dragon.

Tobirama should kowtow or something, shouldn't he? But he freezes, for once deeply resenting that he has only ever been trained to react to surprises with violence.

There is a rumbling sound. Tobirama isn't sure if it's a growl or not, and all he can really do is force himself not to respond with a panicked noise of his own.

"You are too early." The dragon says, impassively, "You will come back here after you have your human understanding of things first, as it should be."

And then the dragon is suddenly there, in front of him, faster than its size should possibly allow, and its claw is pushing into Tobirama's chest, and it should hurt, but it doesn't. He squeezes his eyes shut on reflex and the only thing that pierces him is bone-deep cold.

When he blinks his eyes open again, he's in his room. The light is warm -- normal morning sunlight, much later than Tobirama would ever usually wake and --

He can't help it, he gasps, entire body wracked with shivers so bad he can't control them. And he's -- at an odd angle. Propped up on something that's not his pillow and being dragged even higher even now.

"Oh, Tobi, are you awake? Are you okay? What happened? Ah, you're so cold." …That's Hashirama holding him together. but he really shouldn't be, because Chichi-ue is here too, watching it happen, arms crossed. Though, he doesn't look particularly angry or even disapproving. Mostly, he just looks… Resigned.

"I--" he tries, but his whole body spasms with another round of shivers, and Hashirama pulls him closer, like it will help.

…It doesn't hurt, though.

He wishes he could relax into it, but he can't with father watching. But with Hashirama rubbing at his back, it's easier to take measured breaths. Enough to help his body relax a bit, even if it doesn't actually make him feel any warmer.

"H-had a dream." he gets out, voice still shaking with cold.

Tobirama thinks he should explain more, except chichi-ue closes his eyes and says, "I figured as much." And then, "Pull yourself together and get to the shrine. You'll have new lessons there starting today."

He turns and leaves without saying anything else, even though Hashirama says, "Huh?"

It explains nothing. Tobirama is starting to think he understands, regardless.

Chapter End Notes

Tags on original post:

#the AU in my drafts is izuna getting himself into spirit trouble and tobirama Very Begrudgingly saving him bc its his job

#which He has to do bc his older brother got the mokuton. its supposed to be like a Repaying Spiritual Debt kind of thing. or something

#Tobirama's Job is not captured here but it's basically something like the Human Representative to the Spirit World

#anyways call it a classic domoz staying to to try and reset a bad sleep schedule bang out a fic in one sitting moment

[Hikaku] Uncle Tobirama

Chapter Notes

Asked for fic prompts on tumblr, this one: "Hikaku needs Tobirama to look over a trade agreement or some such, but finds him during Uncle Tobirama and Senju-prince/princess time? How awkward or horrifying or good at it Tobirama is at being a babysitter, you may decide!"

Hikaku pauses only briefly as he steps into the office.

Tobirama is there, as expected; the pink-haired child sitting in his lap and staring right at him is not. He doesn't ask the obvious question -- Tobirama wouldn't appreciate it.

"I have the counter-offer from Rice Country, if you have time to go over it right now?" He doesn't ask as confidently as he would otherwise. If Tobirama didn't have his niece in his lap, it wouldn't be a question at all.

"Ah, good. Yes, bring it here."

Hikaku might hesitate a moment, but there's no real argument he can make against it, so he does.

Sitting across from Tobirama balancing numbers is not an unusual way for Hikaku to spend his time and the tries to keep his focus, truly, but the toddler in Tobirama's lap babbles something unintelligible and in response her uncle starts bouncing his knee to entertain her. She giggles, which Hikaku must not do a good enough job at ignoring, because Tobirama, though he doesn't look up from his work actually acknowledges her presence with an explanation.

"There was an issue with her caretaker." He says, and then, realizing how ominous such a vague statement must sound, continues, "Hashirama has been handling that scheduling himself while Mito is traveling."

Tobirama gave up on trying to salvage his brother's dignity to Hikaku about one month into getting to witness his dramatics firsthand. Today, the Hokage is currently entertaining envoys from the capitol and must have passed the problem on to his brother. If that's how it is, then he'll have no right to act surprised when he finds out Tobirama brought her to work.

"I see…" Hikaku says, and shakes himself into responding instead of staring at the clear fondness in Tobirama's expression when he glances down at the child, "Well, this isn't particularly time sensitive, so it's no trouble for me to come back later…"

But Tobirama only shakes his head.

"No need. We're getting plenty done, aren't we?"

Maybe he is. Before Hikaku can respond, the toddler babbles again, finishing her statement with a very assertive, "Ji!"

This is apparently a demand that Tobirama understands, because he reaches into a desk drawer to take the stamp he uses to sign off on documents. Since it's Tobirama's, of course there's some kind of seal on it making it so that it doesn't need to be re-inked. He hands it to his niece who begins stamping away at the paper he sets out for her (and the surrounding desk) with delight.

He's far more indulgent of her than Hikaku expected, and something about it makes his heart clench, which he summarily ignores by forcing himself to look back at his own paperwork. Trying to calculate tariffs and taxes is much harder with such a distraction in the room, but he does manage it for a while -- until Tobirama's niece decides that she's bored of making art and wriggles out of her uncles lap.

It's nearly impossible not to lose focus when a toddler has crept her way around the edge of a desk and is staring at you, or so Hikaku would argue. Tobirama is clearly keeping an eye on her but otherwise carries on calculating transportation costs, saying nothing about the way Hikaku has paused in his own work.

With narrow-eyed determination, she abandons the cover of the desk to take two unsteady steps over to Hikaku and grab onto his mantle.

"Ah." He says, looking down. "Hello."

"Aa." She answers.

Tobirama doesn't make a sound, but he's covered his mouth as though he might feel the need to muffle one, or maybe like he's trying to hide his expression.

"She's not normally so willing to approach strangers." He says from behind his hand.

She makes another unintelligible sound, but raises her hands. The meaning is clear enough: pick me up.

Hikaku should probably not pick up the Hokage's daughter, but he glances at Tobirama who is clearly hiding a smile behind that hand from the way his eyes are crinkled and immediately relents. She squeals in delight and immediately grabs for the chains that hang over his shoulders.

Tobirama's composure finally breaks, and his shoulders shake in a soundless laugh.

"It's a shame you're always so busy." He says, "I could recommend you as a babysitter."

"So are you," Hikaku counters, "And yet here we are."

Tobirama only hums. And busy as he is, Hikaku will stay in his office an extra hour, because his niece has decided to fall asleep in his lap.

Chapter End Notes

Tags on original post:

#idk why i struggled to write this so hard. because i was like i Need to Write indulgent uncle tobirama so badly

#personally i think. that if he gets to the point where he allows himself to do it

#he would Love being the cool uncle.

#...also vague handwavy things about trust mixed in here. i didnt think about that overly hard.

[Tobirama] [Minor Hika/Tobi] Soulmate Wishes

Chapter Notes

Asked for fic prompts on tumblr, this one: "Hmmm okay prompt: premise: people can, once in their lifetime, basically will the universe into granting whatever is their soulmate's greatest wish at the time they do this. Shinobi will usually save this to use as a get out of death free card (which USUALLY works, because "survive" is a pretty strong impulse when you're about to die, but not always), riches are common, as are the deaths of abusive bosses/parents/etc.

...we all know what Tobirama's greatest wish has nothing to do with being alive himself. So now they're about to die AND have to deal with Kawarama and Itama (plus or minus Hashirama depending on when you set it) who have no idea what's going on."

It's been years since Tobirama has felt this chakra. Longer still since it's been turned towards healing him.

Even with it, his whole body aches. Exhaustion piled upon exhaustion, and he'd lost track of his injuries very early into the fight. He knows only that it hurts to breathe, yet his body stubbornly continues to do it despite each inhale rattling inside of him.

He must be dying, he thinks. His mind has conjured up some fantasy to comfort him as his life fades.

"I know you're awake, otouto." Hashirama's voice, in the same tone he'd use when one of his experiments was particularly troublesome -- exasperated, but ultimately unable to hide his worry. "I'd really like an explanation."

"I think I might have one." That voice would be Hikaku's, who should not be anywhere near here, and so whose presence only cements this as a strange dream. "Your brother, even on the verge of death, has only ever wished for one thing."

Silence stretches, the whole world is quiet and muffled except for the sense-memory of sunlight through trees as Hashirama's chakra knits together bones.

A sigh. "He did warn me. Though I suppose this did work, in its own way."

"Wait, Hikaku-san, you--"

"But you're an Uchiha!" A voice Tobirama hasn't heard in many, many years shouts. It's enough to have him forcing his heavy eyelids open -- even if it's not real, he needs to see--

Hashirama is leaning over him, curtain of hair blocking out most everything else as he heals the crater that Tobirama's chest has become. He looks younger than he did when he died, though not overly so; a snapshot from those few years when he'd gained laugh lines but not yet stress wrinkles around his eyes.

"Don't sit up." He warns, his voice is stern, but there's something fragile in his eyes, "And don't infuse chakra, or I'll knock you out again."

He wouldn't even have to make good on the threat; Tobirama would probably lose consciousness for even trying.

"'nija." He says. Is all he can make himself say between the pain and the tightness of his throat. Hashirama smiles tightly and leans back -- enough for the two figures taking refuge behind him to lean around and look at him with wide eyes.

"Wow, aniki. You got old. What happened to your face?" Kawarama.

Whether he's referring to the red slashes that Tobirama had only made after his death or one of his other injuries, he doesn't know. It doesn't matter, really.

Tobirama's eyes burn. His instinct is to look away, to hide his face, but he doesn't dare.

"That's mean, nii-san. He's hurt." Itama is grabbing onto Hashirama's robe with one white knuckled fist and Kawarama's wrist with the other. The two of them are the same age that they were when they died, the same way that they've been frozen in Tobirama's memories. Kawarama was born first, but brought back like this, Itama has a year and a few centimeters of height on him.

Kawarama makes a disapproving noise -- his eyebrows are furrowed like they did when he was worried and trying not to let it show. He glances obviously to the side, scowls at what he sees, then puffs out his cheeks and steps out of Hashirama's shadow. He doesn't go far -- only to get close enough to sit by Tobirama's head and tug at his hair -- but Itama lets himself be dragged behind and releases his grip on Hashirama to pick up his hand instead.

I missed you. He wants to say. I missed you, I'm sorry, I missed you. He knows better than to leave things unsaid, sucks in a breath to try, and it's agony. Blood stains his teeth; his vision greys and Hashirama is saying something that runs through his ears without registering. His chakra swells until Tobirama can taste it on the back of his tongue, until it drowns out the pain behind its own presence.

He loses time. Kawarama is petting at his hair now, and Itama is mapping the scars on his hands, but both of them refuse to settle, eyes flicking up to watch some threat. Tobirama is in no state to defend them if they should need it, but he forces himself to move despite the pounding weight of his head and look.

They are, he belatedly realizes, in a dome of mokuton vines, and sitting against the far wall, hands visible on his knees, is Hikaku. And he knows why his brothers would be wary of him, but after all these years Tobirama can't see him in that light any longer.

The Uchiha smiles wryly.

"I followed as soon as I heard where you were headed." He says. "No point in having a wish that never gets used."

"So you really are soulmates." Kawarama grumbles. And Tobirama wants -- he wants to promise Kawarama that Hikaku won't hurt him. That no harm will ever come to him again. But with a slow, choking panic, he realizes that he does not even have the strength to turn his head and see him again. He squeezes Itama's hand instead, fingers trembling.

"We're at peace now!" Hashirama says, leaning back from where he was holding his hands over Tobirama's chest to wipe at his brow. Tobirama can see a sunny smile in the corner of his eye. "Just like we used to talk about."

"...Uhm." Itama says after a beat. "If we're at peace, then who were those guys you were fighting?"

"Aah, that's, well--" Hashirama glances at Tobirama first, and then remembering that he's in no state to speak turns to Hikaku instead.

The Uchiha sighs, with that slight twist of a smile that means he thinks something is ridiculous but he won't say it.

"That was supposedly one of Kumo's best squads. Your death was enough of a perceived weakness that Suna started making aggressive action to claim more land. Kumo and Iwa started targeting our shinobi shortly afterwards…"

It's a basic summary of the political situation that Tobirama has been living with for years now, and he tunes it out without quite meaning to.

All of his most important people are here, are with him. It's a nice enough sentiment to die to.


It's dark.

Tobirama feels like he's withered dry and might crack apart into dust if he so much as moves a muscle. The pain of breathing isn't agony, anymore, at least. More an aching pulse that rises and ebbs with each breath.

He's horribly disoriented for a long moment --truly dead, now? -- he's lying down, something soft placed over a hard uneven surface, there are two tiny motes of warmth curled up on either side of him, and there's a conversation going on above his head.  That's probably what woke him.

"I should have known he wasn't over his prejudice against your clan." Hashirama sighs, "I'm sorry--"

"I'm not going to pretend he's our greatest ally, but I don't think you would have been able to do much better." Hikaku cuts him off sharply. Having lived past the age that Hashirama was when he died, he has apparently decided to abandon the deferential respect that he used to have. "I'm certain he would love to let us fight -- keeping them back is my choice. The countries we are at war with have no laws against eye theft. They have bounties for each bloodline they can take, and ours is the highest."

Tobirama blinks, but there is no moonlight for him to see by. They'd tried to make it work. Barbaric as the Hyuga seal is, it is useful; but no matter the modifications Tobirama makes to it, Hikaku cannot get his clan to agree to use it, and without it his clan members are all targets too tempting for their enemies to leave alone. But why is he telling Hashirama this…?

"We have as much sway as any other clan in the council. You are the one who named your own brother as a successor, and got half of my clan convinced they needed more power or risk being destroyed."

Hence the military police plan, and Tobirama isn't certain it will help much. If the Uchiha can't fight on behalf of the village, fighting within it is about the only thing left for them to do -- he figured he might as well at least make it productive.

"You know," Hikaku continues, voice flat, "There was a faction of my clan that wanted to follow in Madara's footsteps. We're all trying our best, Shodai-sama."

There was a plan to assassinate him, which Hikaku dealt with before it could become public. Tobirama is thankful for that, but it has left his soulmate deeply unpopular within his clan.

This feels like a very strange way to have one's life flash before their eyes.

"I… see. I apologize. I'll speak with Tobirama before making any more assumptions." Hashirama says, clearly cowed. There is a long moment of silence, then, "…Do you truly call him by his title? When the two of you are soulmates?"

"He refuses to ruin what little authority I have over my clan by acknowledging it publicly." Hikaku's tone is harsh, now, though if he has an issue with that he's never brought it to Tobirama's attention.

A moot effort now, Tobirama thinks muzzily. Hikaku might be thinking that too, from the way he sighs.

"Tend to your brother, Shodai-sama. I'll keep watch."

The wave of chakra his brother sends over him sends Tobirama into a darkness of a different kind.


When he awakens again he's horribly nauseous. The weightlessness of open air alternates with a dull shock that sends a jolting ache through his body every time it happens. It's manageable; Tobirama could fight through this, if he had to.

But he won't have to. Hashirama has him, one arm secure under his knees, the other his neck, holding him tight to his chest to try and mitigate the impact of each jump.

He's moving much slower than he should be, if his goal is to get an injured person to safety.

Tobirama peels his eyes open, squinting in the wind as the treetops whip past overhead. He has enough strength in him now that he can reach up and grab at the front of his robe, though he grunts from the effort.

"Anija." He rasps. There was still so much left unsaid between them at the end. Enough that Tobirama doesn't even know where to start, aside from the obvious, "I'm--"

"Oh Tobi, good! Hashirama doesn't even seem aware that he's cut anything off. "He's awake!" He announces over this shoulder, and drops from the trees to the ground, landing with a thump. Hashirama is obviously trying to muffle the impact, but it makes him twitch and hiss in pain regardless.

He's healed enough now that when Hashirama  goes to set him down against a tree trunk he can keep himself upright, but not without his arms shaking from the effort.

"We still really shouldn't be moving you." His brother comments idly as he sends a light pulse of diagnostic chakra through his system, "I really wish we'd been able to use a stretcher. And you're going to take forever to recover your chakra after how much I had to dump into you. But if you actually rest when we get home, you should end up alright."

His hands flutter around until he finds a water skin -- Uchiha mon stamped on, so it must actually be Hikaku's -- and shoves it in Tobirama's face. He's able to get a grip on it enough to hold it himself -- the water is stale but the he relief of it sharp, settling over him like a blanket.

"Hikaku-san went ahead to alert everyone as soon as we got into safe territory." Hashirama chatters on, "There should be a patrol coming to meet us. You really had us worried there for a minute!"

As he talks, Tobirama's eyes don't move from the two figures that have landed behind Hashirama and are peering over his shoulders.

"Seriously." Kawarama says, "I don't think you've ever slept that long."

"I--" Tobirama chokes out, "I haven't died, have I?" 

"No." Itama says, eyebrows knitted together.

"You'd better not have." Kawarama echoes with a scowl

"You're the only one here who hasn't!" Hashirama smiles, like he's made a joke, but it slips right back off his face at whatever he sees when he meets Tobirama's eyes.

"Oh, Tobi…" He says sorrowfully, but Itama beats him to whatever he's planning on doing, darting around Hashirama and carefully but forcefully wrapping his arms around Tobirama's neck. Not to be outdone, Kawarama squawks and secures a hold around one of his shoulders.

Tobirama's eyes burn, and he buries his face into a bony shoulder, so he's not able to see when Hashirama moves to pull all of them into his arms. He's lived long enough that the grief of their deaths had scarred over, but this has ripped the wound gaping open wide.

"It must have been lonely." Itama says, voice muffled in Tobirama's fur.

"We're here now though." Kawarama insists. His voice wavers so he buries his face in fur, too.

“Yeah.” Hashirama agrees, chin resting on top of Tobirama’s head. “We’re all here, now.”

Chapter End Notes

Tags on original post:

#ending this here before I get SO out of hand.

#but u already know theres so much i want to explore in this au now

[Izuna] Duty, Sacrifice, and Eyes

Chapter Notes

Asked tumblr for prompts. This one:
"Prompt: TobiIzu & Mission Gone Wrong, if you fancy? Maybe some whump, something with capture and/or torture? :]"

 

Cw: Eye trauma, mentioned/offscreen torture

 

Tobirama limps through the door with someone's robe in one hand. Izuna doesn't look up from where he's watching the pot of water boil. 

 

The only reason Izuna had let him go retrieve it was because he hadn't been able to stop him. Logically, he knows that between the two of them, his wounds are worse; that they should be treated first; that Tobirama is more trained to deal with them than Izuna is. But logic has no bearing on the weight that sits, dark and heavy and burning in the center of his chest.

 

Tobirama works silently next to him, cutting the stolen clothes into long strips and boiling the fabric with all the efficiency of a battlefield medic.

 

"Let me see." He says as the last rag goes into the pot. Izuna wordlessly slides his own thin clothes off his shoulders as far as they will go before the dried blood sticking it to his skin stops it from going further. Tobirama is gentle with the first passes of warm water across his back, slowly pulling fabric apart from skin until the whole flayed mess is exposed.

 

Izuna didn't so much as flinch at his wounds being touched but he shudders at the chakra that flushes through his system. Even in healing, Tobirama's chakra is intense enough to make Izuna break into goosebumps. Tobirama ignores the reaction pulling his chakra back and forth in a way thats slightly nauseating in order to give Izuna  as close to an approximation of stitches as can be done right this moment. The bandages, when he starts wrapping them around Izuna's chest, are already dry. No doubt that moron used suiton to do it, like he has the energy to spare.

 

Tobirama says nothing more as he secures the bandages and moves to start cleaning his own wounds. And not the important one, Izuna notes with disgust watching out of the corner of his eye.

 

"Tobirama." He forces himself to speak up. His voice is already rough from abuse, so there's no way to read any emotion into it being that way now. "Let me look at it. Everyone in my clan is trained on how to deal with-- with injuries like that."

 

"...If you want." Tobirama says after a moment. And so Izuna swallows harshly, and forces himself to turn and look.

 

One red eye watches him sharply. The other remains closed, lid fluttering uselessly over an empty socket. 

 

Izuna's lips tighten into a thin line, but he doesn't let any more show than that. He grabs a rag from the rapidly cooling pot, rings out the excess moisture, and with only a enough hesitation to swallow dryly, reaches out to hold Tobirama's jaw steady with one hand as he starts wiping away the blood that has dried on the other side. It's smeared and blended in with the marking on his cheek -- less strikingly now than it had when it was fresh-- and matted into a good chunk of his hair. Izuna washes that out too, as best as he can, rust brown flaking off onto his hands as he works. Until all that's left to deal with is--

 

Tobirama's remaining eye meets his. There is no judgment there, nor is there any sympathy.

 

"If it's not still bleeding, there's not much to do, is there?" He says.

 

"Clean it." Izuna bites back immediately,"Disinfect the socket. Infection halves the chance that it will heal when we--"

 

Izuna nearly chokes as he cuts himself off, his barely healed wounds protesting at the sudden tautness of his spine. Tobirama won't be getting his eye back. There hadn't been enough left to recover when they'd found it.

 

Tobirama graciously ignores Izuna's slip up, choosing instead to reach up and do what Izuna couldn't bring himself to do and probe at the socket with his fingers. Izuna watches in sick fascination-- There's already cloth stuffed in there from where their captors had made a token attempt at stopping him from bleeding out, but it wasn't done cleanly or kindly. With the supplies they have, Izuna won't be able to do much better. 

 

He swats away Tobirama's hand and forces himself to try, regardless. Tobirama bears the cleaning and repacking of his wound silently, the only indication he gives at how painful it must be is the twitching of his fingers where they rest in his lap. He even bows his head to allow Izuna to tie on a makeshift mockery of an eyepatch.

 

When that's done, Izuna's hands hover around Tobiramas' head for a long moment before he lets them drop. Fingers tighten into fists, his throat still tight with a mess of emotions that are worse than useless right now.

 

"What were you thinking?"  Izuna rasps, when the silence becomes too much to bear. Tobirama meets his furious gaze coolly -- with one eye, which only makes Izuna's throat constrict tighter.

 

"That they were easily fooled, and that I don't have any visual prowess to be stolen. It seemed like a sensible trade to make."

 

One Izuna hadn't had a choice in. When they'd been captured and thrown in separate cells, it was only the luck of how they had been placed that allowed Tobirama to overhear their captor's conversation. Something he'd heard had made his eyes go wide, then calculating, and finally he'd locked gazes with Izuna, trying to convey something.

 

"Then they would be fools." He'd said suddenly, too loud to be meant as a secret. "Your eyes are darker than mine, they won't even bother with yours."

 

"What?!" Had been Izuna's response, somewhere between baffled and offended. He hadn't understood, not until after they'd dragged Tobirama away.

 

"Sensible?" Izuna hisses, "It was your eye!"

 

"Yes." Tobirama agrees, "And it wasn't one of yours."

 

Angry heat burns down Izuna's whole body. "I didn't ask you to do that. We could have--"

 

"Izuna." Tobirama cuts him off sharply, "I don't regret it. I will not regret it. I would make the same choice again."

 

Izuna's eyes burn, and it nothing to do with the sharingan. His fists curl into Tobirama's shirt to hold him still as he bows his head, the acid bitterness leaking  out of him.

 

He and Tobirama are alike in too many of the same ways. Both are responsible for protecting those behind them, both of them take that duty far more seriously than they will ever admit. And because Tobirama made the choice that he did, Izuna has failed.

 

At least he'd made it hurt.

 

"Of course you can't get it to work." Izuna had spat in the man's face. "I bet you don't even have the chakra stores to activate it" 

A half truth, built off the lie Tobirama had already spun. Meant to buy more time, but it worked even better. His incompetent interrogator snarled and stepped close enough for Izuna to get the tips of his fingers on one of the tools in his belt. He'd lost his guts, for that.

 

Tobirama's hands settle on his shoulders-- an awkward but earnest attempt at comfort. It doesn't make Izuna feel any better.

 

"...You should rest" He says when Izuna doesn't indicate he's even noticed, "I will.. Keep watch."

 

The sound that bubbles out of Izuna's mouth is too wretched sounding to be considered a laugh.

 

"That's not very funny." He means it, but despite his words, Izuna feels like he might burst into giggles.

 

"I wasn't trying to be," The Senju responds, deadpan. He pulls his hands back to himself, leaving Izuna feeling even less grounded. "I was only stating a potential plan. If you're worried about my capabilities, know that my sensory abilities are unaffected."

 

A giggle does force its way out of him now, though Izuna cuts himself off with a snort before it becomes too obvious. 

 

"Not what I meant " He waves off as soon as he trusts himself to speak again, "I really just think you should be more worried about this. Are you in shock?"

 

Tobirama glares at him, no less sharp for having only one eye to do it with. "And what's worrying going to do? All that can be done is move forward."

 

Maybe Izuna shouldn't be surprised; Tobirama would probably say the same if he had lost a limb . Izuna sighs and slumps forward, until his face is pressed into Tobirama's shoulder. The Senju curiously allows it.

 

"And how." Izuna asks, muffled, "Do you move forward from that."

 

It's mostly rhetorical, but Tobirama of course already has an answer. He's a practical man, and he's had days of captivity to think on it.

 

"Well." He starts, as if gathering his thoughts, "There are craftsmen in your clan capable of making chakra conducting glass, yes?"

 

Izuna tilts his head up to squint at the Senju, unsure of where this is going. "...Yes."

 

Tobirama nods.

"With the correct seals, I think a glass eye could connect directly into my nervous system. I don't think I could replicate sight as we know it, but I wasn't intending to. The possibilities of such a thing are larger than that."

 

...Of course he would.

 

 Izuna stares for a long moment, then breaks into giggles again. More genuine this time, but no less hysterical.

 

It's considered something of a sacrilege to replace a lost sharingan with a fake, and even those in their clan without the doujutsu follow suit. But Tobirama is not an Uchiha, and he hasn't lost a sharingan .

 

The Senju in question looks down at Izuna dubiously.

 

"Will that be a problem?"

 

"No." Izuna says at once, heart pounding harder, yet somehow easier. He may not have been able to stop the injury, but this much? He can do. "There won't be. I'll make sure of it.”




Chapter End Notes

Original tags:

#And in my heart of hearts tobiramas glass eye has izunas mangekyo pattern

[Madara] Spirit Troubles 2

Chapter Notes

When Madara decided to duck into this cave to wait out this spring storm, the last thing he expected to find was Tobirama Senju's corpse.

Because that's what it is, without a doubt. Waxy, bloodless, somehow even paler than Madara thought possible. Not breathing. When Madara calls on his sharingan, he sees no heartbeat either.

There are not many clues. Tobirama looks uninjured as far as he can see, and the sparkle of ninja wire alerts him to the traps that have been scattered around. Tobirama does not appear to have expected to die; he's curled up on one side like he got cold in his sleep.

Poison, maybe?

Madara tells himself that it's wariness that drives him forward. Or morbid curiosity. Anything that could take out this Senju so cleanly is worth knowing about.

He quickly revises his guess as he disables enough of the traps to move closer. Every step he takes, the temperature drops until his breath is misting in the air and the chill is biting through his clothes. Somehow, the Senju has managed to die of hypothermia.

 Madara carefully prods the body with his gunbai, flips it over, but still sees no cause. He wonders if this is something Tobirama did to himself. If he was trying to develop some new seal or jutsu to fight Izuna with and ended up freezing himself to death.

If he did, then Madara should feel nothing but satisfaction. As it is, that's just one in the complicated mess of feelings that he's choosing to ignore.

(Like this, curled up small and face slack, Tobirama Senju looks his age. Madara didn't remember that it was the same as Izuna's until now).

There's nothing to be done, truly. Madara briefly entertains the idea of taking Tobirama's body and returning it to his clan, but it would be a pointless gesture, and would invite more problems than it would be worth.

…Maybe he'll send a message, just to be sure they find the body. He would hope for nothing less if it was one his own clansmen, much less--

He shudders and steps back as a strange draft seems to blow through the cave and chill it even further. If this continues, they'll find his body well preserved at the very least.

The rain hasn't stopped, but Madara turns and leaves the cave anyway. He'd rather get wet than freeze himself standing next to a corpse.

He's about to take to the branches when he hears a gravelly "Uchiha."

Slowly, he turns back around. Tobirama sways unsteadily at the mouth of the cave. On his feet. Walking and breathing, but still so cold that his whole body sheds mist.

Horrible jutsu. Madara decides hysterically, swinging his war fan around to protect himself from the scrawny undead Senju. Horrible, terrible jutsu

Tobirama does not look impressed. That he can look unimpressed right now is a miracle.

"Your brother." He says, miming long hair down the front. Like Kou used to--"Says to stop leaving sweets at his shrine, he wants umeboshi instead."

Madara does not move a muscle. He should be furious, but is that claim really so far-fetched when he was just--

Tobirama sighs deeply, "And stop trying to make the cucumber horse. He says Izuna does it better."

Then as though he hasn't said and done something completely insane, Tobirama turns and lopes off towards Senju land. He's still slow and unsteady, and Madara knows he could catch him if he chased.

He doesn't. He thinks he might need to pray before encountering that Senju again.

Chapter End Notes

Off screen, Tobirama is having an awful time with some very annoying ghosts

[Izuna] Babymaking

Chapter Summary

Izutobi + Trans Izuna + ??? Tobirama + Arranged Marriage + No one did any communication about it

Chapter Notes

"Having second thoughts?" Tobirama meets Izuna's eyes coolly from where he kneels by the head of the futon. "You know full well that it's too late for that. And don't give me that look -- I'm about as excited by this as you seem to be."

Tobirama has stripped out of his wedding clothes since Izuna last saw him. Now he waits in a simple cotton yukata, hair damp like he’s just bathed even though it hasn’t been more than fifteen minutes.

Izuna forces himself to release his grip on the door frame so he can step inside. He hadn't been able to win himself many concessions, but privacy after the wedding was one he fought hard for. Silencing seals flare to life across the walls and windows as the door slides shut.

He doesn't move any closer.

 

"I meant what I said the first time the word marriage was spoken. I won't touch you, and if you try to touch me you're going to suffer for it for the rest of your short life."

"Yes, you've made that exceedingly clear." Tobirama says dryly, "There's a reason the marriage contract only obligates us to have children instead of consummate. You understand we don't have to actually touch each other for that?"

"Children of our blood, in case you've forgotten." Because the language used was pulled straight from old Uchiha contracts. "You clearly understand that we can't manage that without sex, or else you wouldn't be sitting there."

He resists the urge to cross his arms, but Tobirama doesn't, instead folding his in a way Izuna must have seen over a hundred times in the last year.

"I only need you to provide the material." He says, infuriatingly steady, "I trust you're more than capable of handling that on your own."

 

For the first time in his entire history of dealing with Tobirama, Izuna is brought up short.

"The material."

Tobirama wears a look of distaste as he explains. "Your semen. I'm only here to offer you a sealing scroll to put it in -- but if you distrust me that badly any clean container will do. I can take care of it from there."

"I--" The emptiness in his head lasts far longer than is acceptable, but Tobirama is frustratingly patient when it's inconvenient for him. "I cannot."

 

"You--" Tobirama is clearly angry before he cuts himself off -- but he wouldn't be Tobirama if he couldn't recognize something as simple as a choice of words, and it's replaced with careful consideration before he finishes. "You cannot."

Then again, Izuna wouldn't be Izuna if he wasn't able to pick up on the implication right back, "…I cannot. Can I assume that since you're asking me, that you cannot either?"

 

"…No. I cannot." The mixture of irritation and confusion on Tobirama's face would delight him under any other circumstance, and Izuna will think back on it with great fondness later, but right now his ears are ringing with surprise so loudly he almost doesn't hear when Tobirama shakes his head and says, "This certainly complicates things."

"No, really?" Izuna says, his sarcasm almost a reflex when it comes to Tobirama. And then he realizes that, as Tobirama pushes himself to his feet, he still looks like he's thinking. "…What are you planning?"

"To do research. I'll be out of your way now."

 

Izuna almost, almost lets him go without a fight seeing as how he's just had a number of revelations that he'd like to sit and think on. But if there's one thing more terrifying than Tobirama doing research, it's Tobirama doing research on how the two of them are going to have children together.

 

"No. I'm going with you." He decides, "It's going to be my kid too."

Tobirama does not look pleased. Still, after clearing reigning back whatever his first thought was he replies, "I suppose you're going to have to be involved in the process at some point."

Izuna shoots him a sharp smile, pushing the door right back open. The sound of distant celebration rushes back in as the seal breaks.

 

"Alright then Tobirama. Let's go make a baby."

Chapter End Notes

Tags from original post:

#i have thoughts about how they got Into this situation but i will leave that 2 your imagination

[Izuna][IzuTobi] Hunt's Eve

Chapter Summary

Drabble exchange with (tumblr) doveywovy, where we both wrote with the prompts "marriage hunt" and "cultural differences"

Chapter Notes

The brilliant orange of sunset feels like it takes an eternity to fade into dusk.

The strings of lanterns around the edges of the clearing make tonight's gathering of anxious young hopefuls look more like a festival than it has any right to. If it were only Uchiha out here, it practically would be -- there would be talking and dancing and everyone would be sizing up the others out to hunt tonight. But there’s a group of Senju huddled together on the far side of the clearing across from them, and so the atmosphere is decidedly flat. Both sides keep well apart from each other, separated only by the tiny group of participants from other clans.

"Yeah, there's no way someone's not ending up dead tonight." Izuna informs his brother. Madara groans.

"Repeating how bad of an idea you think this is isn't going to stop it at this point." Madara sighs. "Haven't you already made sure a thousand times that no one out tonight is planning on doing anything stupid?"

Izuna has had this argument with him constantly over the past few months, and he's still loath to admit that his brother has a point. Putting a pause to marriage hunts had been sensible when the village had been founded. Nearly two years in, though, and it's starting to seem like they don't have faith in their own creation to survive the pressures of a time-honored tradition.

So even though this is going to end in disaster, the best thing to do to ensure Konoha's long term survival -- and Izuna finds, these days, that he's begrudgingly in support of that outcome -- is to hold a hunt anyways, and just deal with whatever happens.

That doesn't mean he can't say I-told-you-so afterwards, though.

"Our people, yes, but I can't account for the rest of them. I mean, the Senju all came out without shoes, so it's not like my expectations are very high."

"If I've kept my mouth shut about whatever has your clan lighting fires and singing all hours of the night leading up to this, you can bite your tongue on our shoes." Tobirama’s deep voice cuts in, the man butting into their conversation by appearing from the treeline on the Senju side, where he's surely been working his perfectionist little fingers to the bone over something that's going to be a mess anyways.

Izuna turns to him with a retort like usual, but he finds himself staring open-mouthed instead. He's known roughly where Tobirama has been all day, but he hasn't had eyes on him until right this moment. He's not wearing one of the four outfits Izuna has ever seen him in. No armor, no shinobi blacks or training clothes or that mess of dye the Senju call formal clothes. He's in a wave patterned haori, a pair of hakama that's secured at the ankles, and -- and no shoes.

"What the hell?" Madara sputters out a response before Izuna can -- he's too distracted by the string of bells Tobirama has wrapped around one wrist like the rest of the Senju participants, chest squeezing tight with too many reactions to name. "What are you dressed like that for? You're joining?"

"I don't see why I wouldn't." Tobirama says in that tone he usually takes with Madara that makes it sound like the person he's talking to is very stupid, "I'm eligible, and there are several politically advantageous targets. If I participate I can also keep an eye on anyone who might be planning on causing trouble. It's good optics."

"Good optics?" Izuna says, a little too shrill, "You're the clan heir! Don't you have something arranged already?"

He'd always assumed so -- Izuna himself hasn't exactly been betrothed since before he was born, but the list of acceptable candidates for him to marry has never been very long.

He really shouldn't be surprised when Tobirama shakes his head; he's always known that the Senju don't care about bloodlines. They probably hadn't even had to read through the genealogies of all of their participating clan members beforehand.

"Wh-- you're not seriously joining a hunt for political convenience?" Madara cuts in before Tobirama can say something snarky. "That's cold, even for you, Senju."

Tobraima rolls his eyes, "It’s not like I’m aiming  to get married to someone who hates me. If it comes down to that, I won't hunt anyone at all."

The two of them devolve into bickering, but Izuna is hardly listening. Tobirama is either going to walk out of the woods married, or never allowed to marry at all. The stupid bastard probably even thinks he would prefer that.

…It’s not like Izuna can join and do anything about it -- but that's not true, he only shouldn't. Certainly no one would be able to raise any complaint about the two of them being too closely related and, well -- it's a hunt;  if it succeeds there's not really any challenging it anyways.

Tobirama makes a noise of disgust at whatever it is Madara just said and excuses himself with, "I have more important things to worry about tonight than your empty head."

Luckily, Madara is distracted by chasing after him to try and get the last word in, so he doesn't notice as Izuna slinks away to go mingle with the hunters on the Uchiha side of the clearing. Surely, someone has some spare red rope lying around? It’s not as though he’s about to let Tobirama be inflicted on anyone else.

Chapter End Notes

Tags on OP:

#“”drabble“ this is more than 4x the length of a drabble. dont even WORRY about it

#izuna said someone is going to cause problems tonight. i think it'd better be me!!

[Izuna] Cold Snap

Chapter Notes

Another drabble trade with doveywovy,, this one with the prompts "mermaids" and "sharing body heat"

The air hangs still and quiet in the way it only does in the morning after it's just snowed.

Probably, Izuna should be thankful for the unseasonable turn in the weather. The cold has driven witnesses indoors and the usually deadly fauna of the swamp he travels through into hiding. He's never liked weather like this, though. The sharpness of the chill makes his jaw ache, and he finds himself paranoid that somehow his own breath will give him away.

Ice has formed a crust on the sides of his little boat and more forms on his oar every time he lifts it from the water. Soon enough he's going to have to stop and scrape it off, before it becomes too awkward to navigate. But he’s hesitant when even the gentle drift of the boat sounds too loud in the silence.

There are rivers and lakes in water country, but not widespread enough to make learning to hide beneath them particularly worth it. Even this swamp is probably only two meters deep in most places -- the canopy of the trees above are so thick that they would make a better hiding spot for nearly anyone looking to ambush him.

That's why he's unprepared for the boat to suddenly be pulled out from underneath him. With the whip-crack speed of a predator springing on its prey, two thick arms hook under his shoulders and pull him backwards. He doesn't fall into the water, but into flesh -- slick and freezing cold.  He tries to pull away, instinctively kicks backwards, but whatever his foot meets is a single solid mass, and all he gets for struggling is flipped onto his front, face forced into the rough wood and freezing cold water that's sloshed over the sides of the boat. Even his legs aren't left free as something thick and muscled wraps around them.

Whatever it is that's on top of him isn't human -- but it also isn't trying to kill him, or else it could have done so by now. Instead, one arm -- pale white and scaly when Izuna cranes his neck to see it -- moves to wrap around both of his arms while the other moves to start tearing open his clothes. Icy-cold claws rake down his skin and start going through his pockets, tossing knives and coins and food pills all around the deck of the boat and over the side.

 The thing’s grip has become weaker in the meantime, and Izuna uses the chance to free his right elbow backwards -- it earns him more weight pressed down on him, not less, and an angry hiss.

"What kind of useless human doesn't carry matches?" A deep, accented voice growls out above him, "Or even a flint?"

The only thing that keeps Izuna from responding with 'the kind that can spit fire' is the fact that he can't follow it up with a fireball right in this thing’s face. Which means he has a moment to realize that this thing can speak, and if it can understand him then he has another way to worm his way out of this.

"The warm kind." He answers, as understanding about what's happening clicks into place, "The kind that might help you if you let him up and ask nicely."

He punctuates his point by taking as deep a breath as he can manage in his position and warming it with his chakra as he lets it back out. It turns the air around them into warm steam before it drifts away, and Izuna can feel the muscles wrapped around him clench as the thing hunches over as though trying to capture the heat.

There is a long moment of hesitation, then a sigh through clenched teeth. Weight shifts off of his chest, enough for him to push himself up and turn around, though his legs are still trapped under the bulk of -- that's a fish tail.

The creature that's caught him is something out of a peasant fairy tale. Mermaid -- or man, as it were -- the sort of creature that people say lures men to death with its beauty. Izuna supposes he can see where they're coming from; the physique of the top half is almost improbably perfect. Though, the effect is lessened both by the fact that he's just been mugged by him, and that the thing is clearly miserable. The man’s hair and eyelashes are as white as the rest of him but they sparkle with ice, and now that his arms aren't down Izuna's clothes they're crossed over his chest in a hopeless bid to preserve warmth.

"I'll only need you to stay until the cold front is gone." The merman informs him, mouth not quite forming correctly around the words. "Then you can carry on as you please."

Which could be days or even weeks -- plenty of time to find an escape. Or, Izuna blows out another warm breath and stops himself from smirking as the merman can't stop himself from leaning into it, plenty of time to make a new friend.

Chapter End Notes

OG Tags:

#...tobirama got so invested in whatever he was doing that he didn't notice the weather change until it was too late

#he'd be fine. he could just go aligator mode and go into torpor for a while. but he has THINGS* TO DO

#*izuna

#izuna will greatly enjoy being tobirama's source for human knowlege im sure

[Izuna] Blessed

Chapter Notes

Another drabble trade with doveywovy,, this one had the prompts 'Blessed' and 'Forbidden Technique'

Technically, all of the techniques unlocked by the mangekyo are forbidden.

A few generations ago one of Izuna's ancestors went through the painstaking process of trying to document just how severe the vision loss caused by each technique was. Not a single one could be used without damage.

(Shortly afterwards, that ancestor tried to catch the entire clan in a genjutsu and died from the chakra drain -- the notes Izuna had read had posthumous notes added with theories about how the mangekyo might affect the mind as well.)

But for a shinobi, being forbidden does not mean a true ban. The label stands only as a warning: Using this technique has consequences. If you are to use it, be aware of it. Izuna has heeded them -- he's never once used the higher abilities of his eyes, because if Madara is to have them someday they need to be in perfect condition.

He has Tobirama pinned at the end of a ravine. There's cover enough to make it defensible; normal fire won't do a thing here, and they're matched enough that Izuna can't be assured of victory if he tries to finish him with his sword -- especially when they're both as exhausted as they are. Every moment Izuna allows his opponent to catch his breath is another moment he might find an upper hand

It's not a quite snap decision. Izuna has imagined the easy victory he could win ever since he first manifested the mangekyo, he's just never allowed himself to act on it until this moment.

Ameterasu is the most self-damaging technique there is -- but he only needs to use it once.

The mangekyo manifests into his eyes with a dry burn, which quickly becomes a searing pain as Izuna pushes more chakra into them then he ever has before.

"Ameterasu!"

Black fire twists and flows. Izuna can see Tobirama's alarm at the new technique before the scene becomes blurry with the blood that wells from his eyes. He counters with water, as he usually does -- a huge wave of it, a panicked last defense that would have worked on any other technique Izuna could have tried. The suiton explodes into steam without slowing Izuna's black flames at all. It gives him enough space to wipe the blood from his eyes -- to see Tobirama burn.

Only there is no screaming, no scent of burning flesh. The steam drifts up and away and Izuna stares.

His fire remains, the pull on his chakra and the stinging of his eyes is proof that it's his, but it's changed. Where it's clung to Tobirama, the flames of Ameterasu have turned white, a corona of holy fire burns across his shoulders and makes the red of his eyes gleam.

They had been a sign, every Uchiha had known it. The second son of Butsuma Senju very well could have been blessed, but no one had ever tried to prove it. He's Senju. It was easier not to know.

Now Izuna has gone and given himself irrefutable proof. Tobirama is blessed by Ameterasu, so much so that her fires will not harm him.

(Izuna had always thought he'd seemed a little inhuman. This is just confirmation, really).

Tobirama tries to brush the fire away only to spread it to his hands, to drip from his fingers down his sword.  He's still wary, not yet ready to discard it as a genjutsu trick as long as he can't dismiss it, and Izuna must have some sort of expression on his face that makes him pause further when he sees it.

There's no time to catastrophize about what it all means. Izuna shuts his sharingan and the fires fade away, the sense of his chakra burning next to Tobirama's disappears and leaves a new emptiness behind. He sheathes his sword, bows, as though Tobirama is an honorable opponent, and takes the opportunity to retreat.

Izuna will just have to bring him home next time they meet.

Chapter End Notes

OG Tags:

#im thinking all kinds of worldbuilding thoughts herrre

#bc i definitly implied being blessed is not just favored but literally some kind of demigod status

#...which something something tied into how the uchiha see themselves and the sharingan

[Touka] Breathless

Chapter Notes

CW: Suffocation (of someone else)

Getting an Uchiha trapped in a genjutsu is as difficult as it sounds.

Touka has learned that there's no point in changing what they see ages ago. She's good enough that they won't notice the difference without a sharingan, but the moment it's on they'll break it and ruin her hard work. If they're on edge -- and Izuna Uchiha certainly is -- they'll turn it on for anything. His eyes turned red thirty minutes ago, when some animal made enough noise to startle him and have been on since.

So Touka hasn't put anything in his path that might tip him off. Her genjutsu is all subtle -- her own sounds muffled as she trails him though the autumn woods and one of the mildest disorientation genjutsu that exist. It's not enough to make him off balance, just enough to have him listing to one side as he walks. On top of that, if she's laid it right, he should only think it's been five minutes instead of the half an hour it's taken for her to lead him away from the rest of his squad.

He clearly knows that something is wrong by now, recognizes that he's been turned around but can't quite seem to pinpoint how. He won't take more than a few steps at a time now before he pauses to look around. Forward progress has slowed to a crawl, Izuna isn't getting any further away from backup, and sooner or later they're going to come looking for him -- if he doesn't realize that someone is trying to catch him first.

Touka had more-or-less assigned herself this mission after her last spar with Tobirama. She has no support here, and not much confidence that she can win a one-on-one fight. It's hard work to shave a win off of Tobirama on the best of days, and he usually doesn't try to actually kill her.

She pushes all of the air out of her lungs with a silent whoosh, hands coming up to form the signs, slow and precise, of one of her own techniques.

It's a funny thing, breathing. Automatic until you think about it, and then it's all you can focus on. In a middle of a stressful situation it's common to not realize that you've stopped. The darkness that creeps into the edge of your vision is slow, and without the feeling of discomfort, it's almost too easy to forget that you need air at all.

If Izuna realizes something has happened he'll be onto her for certain, but he's not breathing now.

Twenty seconds. Thirty. Sixty. His movements start to slow, his blinking goes sluggish, and red eyes finally fade to black. Lack of air impairs judgement too, but she can't trust that he won't realize something is wrong at any moment.

Sweat beads at Touka's brow. She doesn't use this technique often, so she hasn't had the chance to practice and refine it to a more workable chakra cost. Her own hands tremble as she holds the threads of all the genjutsu she's woven. One more.

Touka has never heard of an Uchiha being fooled by a henge of one of their own clanmates before, but she risks it anyways. Any good genjutsu master spends time observing their enemies, but there's one Uchiha she has more material on than the others, and her only stroke of luck in this whole endeavor is that he was among the group she'd lured Izuna away from.

Hikaku Uchiha's skin feels tight on her, but with she shakes it off with the ease of practice, rolls her shoulders, and steps out from behind the cover of her tree. Izuna doesn't react to the sound of her steps right away -- a good sign.

"Izuna-sama." She's short of breath herself, when her voice comes out as Hikaku's it sounds like he's been running, "We've been looking all over for you. Why are you out here?"

"I was, uh… Patrol…?" His eyebrows furrow as he uses up the last of his air.

"Are you alright?" It's easy enough to feign concern, and Izuna only blinks when she puts her hands on his shoulders.

He only puts up a token resistance as she kicks his legs out from under him and pushes him face down into the dirt. The shock of it breaks all of her genjutsu at once, and she lets the henge drop for good measure, all focus now on getting his arms and legs tied. He wheezes underneath her, not able to get the full breath she's sure he desperately wants with her full weight between his shoulders.

Wrists are tied, then elbows, ankles then knees. She cuts a long bandage into strips and covers his eyes and mouth, too. Only once she has the Uchiha properly hogtied does she roll him over and start removing weapons

He's still taking heaving breaths, around the gag. He twitches when she reaches out to pat one cheek.

"Hey, me catching you here is better than the other thing was going to happen to you. We're all lucky I pulled this off, really."

Izuna shakes his head as violently as her ties will allow. He doesn't get it, probably wouldn't believe her even if she told him Tobirama has finally found his way to beat the sharingan, but that's fine. If they play their cards right, he'll never have to know at all.

Chapter End Notes

OG Tags:

#not what i meant to write but its what my brain wanted to write so here u go

#im off that touka battlegirl mindset shes a genjutsu master shes all abt that subltly 2 me

#if i ever get around to writing this one in full i want you all to know. izuna gets appendicitis right after this

Afterword

End Notes

These were all originally posted on (tumblr)

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!