Hand Over Hand Over Hand

It starts like this:

Madara kneels on the zabuton across from him, hands neatly folded in his lap. Hikaku hasn't needed to meet with his clan head so formally for many years, now, but if there was ever an occasion that called for it…

"I'm sure you've already figured out what I've asked you here for." Madara says. He's smiling, but its tired. Wry. "But it's only fair to do this the right way."

He turns to face Izuna who is lounging to Hikaku's side, leaning back on his arms, looking for all the world like he doesn't care where he is. He's being horribly rude, but Hikaku doesn't think for a second that Madara will punish him, or that he's even considered bringing it up.

"Izuna. I'm to be married soon." Madara says, "And I find it prudent to take a beta into my household to keep things in order. I offer that position to you. Do you accept?"

"Fuck no." Replies Izuna tartly. "And fuck you for asking."

He's Madara's family. The right of first refusal is his, but Hikaku can't imagine anyone being surprised that he's used it. Madara shakes his head, looking more amused than upset.

"Is it so wrong for me to want my beloved little brother to stay with me?"

"It is when you're asking him to live with a Senju." Izuna curls his lip, "Besides maybe I'm looking forward to having a little privacy for once. Some of us have to use our personalities to get people into bed."

Technically, Madara's mate will be an Uchiha by the time he's to move in, but Hikaku doesn't voice that out loud. For all that Izuna and the Tobirama have managed to wrangle their relationship into something that didn't involve killing each other over the peace talks, what they have between them now is anything but polite. Madara may not like it, but Izuna moving out probably really is safer for everyone involved.

Hikaku can't help the way his lips twitch at the way Madara blanches at his brother.

"Don't talk to me about what you do in bed." He pleads, face going red. Focusing on that, instead of getting into another fight over how this arrangement has nothing to do with instincts and everything to do with politics.

"Oh isn't nice, is it? Having to think about who your brother is fucking?" Izuna snipes back, "Because that's pretty much what you just asked me to do."

Because one of the duties of a house beta is to ensure the mated pair has everything they need for their heats and ruts. Some families are able to do it without it being awkward, but Izuna and Madara are not a part of one.

"I know I just --" Madara hides his face with his hand, "I had to ask. And I have. So you're dismissed now."

He waves a hand and Izuna rolls to his feet in a smooth motion. He shoots Hikaku a pitying look before sliding out of the room -- to go pack his things.

Madara heaves a great sigh, rubs a gloved hand over his face. It's been a common sight in the past few weeks; between the arrangement itself, the wedding planning, and his own clan's reticence, Madara has been worn thin -- but he's an indomitable man, and now that his old dream of peace is in his grasp he clearly has no intention of letting go.

Hikaku has been trying to help, where he can. Despite his own conflicting feelings on the marriage, he can see even from here just how good peace will be, and if this what it takes to keep it…

Well, it wasn't as though he ever stood a chance to begin with. And Madara seems intent on going through with this no matter anyone's reservations.

"Hikaku-san." And Even though Hikaku has known -- hoped -- this was coming, Madara's gaze settling on him makes his heart start to speed with nerves, "I find myself to soon be in need of a beta to help manage my household, and can think of no better option than you."

Madara inclines his head, "Would you do me the honor of accepting?"

Hikaku lets out a breath that does not shake and bows low, "The honor is mine, Madara-sama."

In truth, there was no other answer he could have given. Functionally, Madara is asking him to do many the duties he has done for years officially, with all the extra prestige and responsibility that entails. There will be some extra things, not least of which is helping taking care of Madara's future mate, but…

Sometimes, betas in the position he's in get the chance to be exceptionally close with the members of their household. Hikaku does not hold much hope for it -- Madara has had years to act on anything he might feel for Hikaku, if he were so inclined -- but he could hardly pass up the opportunity. All that aside from the way it will bring peace of mind to him and his mother, of course.

As he always does when it comes to Madara, Hikaku will take what he can get.

It starts like this:

Peace comes as something of a surprise to everyone.

The summer has stretched long and hot and, unusually for Fire Country, dry.

And It's called Fire Country for a reason.

Patrols are looking for the start of a wildfire as much as they are enemy movement, and when the alarm sounds not for an incursion, but for smoke spotted Hikaku drops what he's doing and heads for the compound gates. He may be no more exited to fight a wildfire than any other shinobi, but as one of the very few Uchiha with a chakra nature that does not actively stoke flames, his placement on the fire response unit is only sensible.

Izuna stays back. He always grumbles at having to play defense, but he's got no room to argue because his abilities with everything not fire and lightning are rather lacking, while Madara leads the squad, gunbai in hand. If they get there quickly, if the fire isn't too big, there's a chance he'll be able to smother it with a well executed fuuton, if not chakra alone. That doesn't seem likely though, not with the way the smoke is billowing thick and dark, or the way the air itself seems to grow darker the closer they get.

Forests like the ones they live in are made to be burnt every couple of years, but this one hasn't been for far too long. This patch must have somehow escaped the fires that would frequently crop up after battle which means there's quite a lot of stockpiled fuel. Hikaku can already feel the heat rising and they're not in range to do anything yet. It may be best to make a firebreak -- topple some trees, raise as much stone as they can. It will hurt them tactically in this area, but having the compound burn to foundations will be worse.

Hikaku opens his mouth to suggest as much when Madara curses and suddenly changes course.

Enemy. He signs back to them. Hold.

Hikaku sees them when he gets an angle: a group of Senju, headed by one Tobirama, on the other side of the river -- or riverbed, as it were, because the Naka has also been affected by the drought and all that's left of it in the heat is a bare trickle over muddy rocks. They tense as Madara lands in front of them -- squad out of eyeshot, though Hikaku knows they’ve more than likely been spotted. Hands go to weapons but they do not yet draw them.

"Senju, I will not have you threatening the border during a time of crisis." Madara growls at them. Leave or I will make you leave is implied.

Tobirama pulls his hand away from his sword and crosses his arms.

"We are not threatening the border." He says, and then, before Madara can get incensed over it, "Hashirama believes this will become a crown fire."

The tension in Madara's spine only grows more taut, but he does not strike.

"And?"

"And if that should happen, it will no doubt spread to our territory as well." Tobirama appears to be taking great pains to have no inflection in his voice, which Hikaku is certain Madara is only finds more patronizing, "If it gets to that point, even we will struggle to contain the fire."

A feat considering how many earth and water users are among the Senju, to say nothing to Tobirama's own suiton mastery.

"So." Says Tobirama, "I am here asking for a truce, on behalf of Hashirama. Until the threat of wildfire has passed, neither clan is to attack the other."

Madara goes still in the way that makes it impossible to tell if he is about to do something impossibly brilliant or violent.

"…You are allowed only near the fires." Madara says, "And only on this side of the river for as long as it takes to subdue them. We will allow you to retreat freely afterwards."

A few of Hikaku's clanmates tense, but thankfully most of it seems to be out of calculation rather than disagreement.

This wildfire, even if it does spread to Senju territory, will hurt the Uchiha much more than it will them if left unchecked -- with the mokuton at play the Senju clan head may well be able to regrow the forest as soon as it's burned. There's likely a scheme behind it, because they're shinobi, and there always is, but not having to rebuild the compound would be worth the risk. And Madara and Hashirama have never engaged in the mutually assured destruction that their fathers did.

It's good that they haven't brought Izuna, Hikaku thinks as the Senju squad crosses the riverbed. He would probably be so suspicious so as not to allow this at all. Madara will at least let them put out the fires before ordering an attack.

Tobirama and the Senju with him move forward and Madara signals them again, to hold and watch. They subdue the flames with a few flashy suiton, and a doton, here and there. Flames that would have taken the Uchiha squad minutes to fight are doused by a single sweeping wave. It does not take long, and though the Senju are clearly nervous to work with so many sharingan watching them, they still do. This patch of forest has been reduced to nothing more but damp ashes and charcoal, but nobody's compound is going to burn today.

The flames are out before it's even been an hour, and when Tobirama signs to the squad with him it is not to attack or spring some trap, but what they all recognize as the Senju sign for retreat.

"We will leave you to turn over the ashes." Tobirama says, "As not to overstay our welcome."

Tobirama faces Madara as his squad gathers behind him. Stands between them and the Uchiha -- covering their retreat as they move to cross the river the exact same way they arrived, exactly as he would if this were a battle. Madara does not signal them to attack, but offers a single nod to Tobirama before he, too, turns to leave.

"Make sure to look for anything they might have left behind." Madara says to them once the Senju have disappeared back into the forest on their side of the river. Traps he means, but though Hikaku spends the rest of the afternoon searching and making sure no embers remain to start the fire again, he finds nothing, and neither does anyone else.

Madara looks thoughtful that evening, into the next day, and even into the next battle.

There's a certain bend in the river where most of the battles between their two clans take place. It's not too large, and tactically not very important, but the Senju claim that the river is the border, while the Uchiha have memory of the river's course shifting over time and claim that it's theirs. Every time a Senju gets spotted on that bit of land, like clockwork, the Uchiha elders start baying for blood, and, knowing what's coming the Senju always meet them ready to fight.

This time, when Madara and Hashirama see each other across the battlefield, he raises a hand, and the other clan head pauses.

"I didn't think you were the kind to break a truce, Hashirama."

The God of Shinobi stills.

"I'm not." He says, "But I have to know what the truce is in order not to break it."

"Did you not send your brother to our lands?" Madara asks, "We agreed, until the threat of wildfire as passed, neither clan is to attack the other."

He had clearly been talking about that particular fire, but Madara isn't wrong. It still hasn't rained, and a fight here will inevitably cause another. On this side of the river, it might hurt the Senju more than the Uchiha, or it might just as well become the crown fire Hashirama had feared and spread back onto the Uchiha as well.

With the way the wind is blowing, Hikaku fears the latter. And privately he thinks that if the Senju really did put out the fire that threatened them earlier in the season in good faith, it's only fair for the Uchiha to not start another one.

A battlefield's worth of sharingan memorize Hashirama's sharp intake of breath, his eyes widening in surprise.

"You're right." Hashirama agrees, "My apologies. This can wait until later."

For the first time in what might be generations, the Senju and the Uchiha retreat from each other without a fight.

There isn't too much grumbling, considering. On the whole, the clan is very aware of the dangers fire can pose.

The real surprise comes the battle after that.

It's that same damnable patch of land, but it's rained since the last time, more than once. Yet Madara still says, "Is there not still a threat of wildfire, Hashirama? A single bolt of lighting could still set the forest ablaze."

Hikaku watches as, Izuna, standing at Madara's shoulder, scoffs. As emotions flicker across Hashirama's face, and as Tobirama, at his own brother's shoulder is the one who speaks, saying, "By that definition, we are always under threat of wildfire."

"So we are." Agrees Madara, "In which case, don't you think it's best we agree which definition we're using?"

They leave that day again without fighting, with something that is not so much a ceasefire as it is an agreement for no one to cross the line in the sand.

Izuna is tense and nervous, convinced that the Senju will break it.

"They may." Madara agrees easily, "And we will be ready for it."

But summer fades into a long autumn, and then into winter, and they do not. Madara, for his part keeps the clan busy. It's easy enough to convince the Uchiha that, temporary though this reprieve may be, it's a perfect time to stockpile resources that constantly run low during the fighting, and to make repairs long neglected. And though Izuna stays paranoid, leading constant patrols to keep an eye on the Senju he does not catch them breaking the truce. The specter of constant fighting and death starts to fade, and though they remember it more than most, the Uchiha begin to stop expecting this peace to fail, and start hoping that it wont.

"It's something like a test" Madara admits to Hikaku over a glass of shochu on one of those autumn evenings -- an indulgence he has not allowed himself since he was a teenager -- "Partly to see if Hashirama can keep control of his own clan and be patient. And partly, to see if I can."

There are a thousand questions swirling in Hikaku's head -- he's long suspected that Madara did not want to continue the fighting the way Tajima had, but why now, and why like this? What changed his mind about trying, when for so long he had been so outspoken about striking down those who would threaten his family? He doesn't ask any of them, though, but instead says, "Well, I hope this sticks."

He's never once voiced how tired the constant fighting has made him before-- that being something close to treason until recently -- and technically he still hasn't, but he thinks Madara might have heard him anyways, the way he grins at Hikaku with crooked teeth.

 If Madara notices the flush on Hikaku's cheeks, he'll likely just blame it on the alcohol.

It's very nearly summer again when Izuna returns home from a mission, looking disgruntled but uninjured. Hikaku is in Madara's office, going over accounts from years gone, trying to see where the money has been pulled from over time so this extra they have now can be put back where it's been lacking.

"Report?" Madara asks with a raised eyebrow. The mission was to retrieve a sculpture as it was being transported, something that might have been easy or have had a whole mess of complications.

"Mission success." Izuna says, and then, "Encountered Senju. Tobirama was guarding."

That has Madara jolting to sit up straight -- he does not have to ask Izuna to elaborate, though it takes the younger brother a moment to gather his thoughts.

"…We didn't fight." Izuna says at length, mouth taut in a way that says he would have preferred they had. "He claimed the statue was already a counterfeit, and it would be easier to get another than fight over it." And this mission was only to retrieve the statue from the caravan, not verify its authenticity. "He let me take it. It wasn't trapped, and the client was happy with it."

Madara and Izuna both sigh, but for very different reasons. Of the few ceasefires their ancestors have managed to cobble together, they were often ended over things like this. If any two people would be the ones to break this one, it would be Tobirama and Izuna. And yet, they hadn't.

"…I still don't think we should trust them, aniki."

"We don't have to." Madara replies, "But consider that if we get them to agree to something formal, we can take them to task for breaking it."

And Madara seems confident that they will agree. Considering how well things have gone so far, Hikaku is inclined to believe him.

Izuna makes a noise of protest, but does not actually do so with words. He tips his head back and closes his eyes. When he does speak, it's to say, "We can't let them hold anything over us."

Madara chuckles, but it’s a sound of relief more than it is anything else.

"Of course not." Madara agrees, "Which means you'd better help me draft the first letter."

It starts like this:

Hashirama is clearly trying to reign his chakra in, but anxiety still has the grass around his feet sprouting up to knee height. He's said his goodbyes to Tobirama -- many and loudly. Had cried all through the ceremony that had been held on Senju lands. Not the crocodile tears Madara has told him the man usually cries, but ones of genuine distress. Hikaku half suspects the only reason he doesn't start off after the procession to the Uchiha compound is his wife's hand on his elbow.

That had been the agreement -- a Senju traditional ceremony in their compound, and an Uchiha ceremony in theirs. If they had been civilian clans, or even under a little less pressure, the procession would have been more like a parade. As it is, Hikaku follows just behind Madara, Izuna at his shoulder, at a pace far too quick to be considered polite or formal.

They move silently -- bride and groom, honor guard, and hidden extra guard alike. All Uchiha, because as of the end of the Senju ceremony, Tobirama has officially been handed over to them.

He's not technically an Uchiha until their ceremony is finished, though, and Madara had been forced to make compromises between who he knew would be trustworthy and who would be actually good a good guard. News of the treaty and future alliance has no doubt spread, and a strike at Tobirama and Madara, foolish as that idea would be, would be a very decisive way for worried parties to stop that potential problem before it began. Despite that, half of Hikaku's attention is on his own clan, and likely will be for the foreseeable future.

Tobirama, for all that he is still in a shiromuku, is keeping up with the pace admirably. From behind, Hikaku can't tell if he is even nervous, though he certainly must be. This has to be the most vulnerability Tobirama has ever shown in front of his erstwhile enemies.

Hikaku can't bring himself to be bitter towards the man. Madara hadn't chosen Hikaku, but he hadn't exactly chosen Tobirama either. Everyone loses, for the net gain of peace -- such is the nature of compromise.

They slow as they reach the river. This year, rain has been abundant, and the Naka flows a little fast, though not enough to be a danger to anyone who can properly mold their chakra to walk on it.

In front of him, Madara leans his head towards Tobirama and says something too low to be overheard. Tobirama shakes his head, and they continue across the river as though it wasn't an obstacle at all.

Hikaku wonders if Madara offered to carry Tobirama. In Uchiha tradition it would be proper for him to be carried, if not to the compound, then at least to the house. If that is going to happen, it will be after the Uchiha ceremony, but Hikaku has his doubts.

Tobirama may never allow such a thing.

It starts like this:

Shimeji Kazuya, distant cousin and representative of the daimyo in these proceedings, is a man who Hikaku suspects was exhausted by politics long before he was forced to deal with a bunch of shinobi.

They'd worked out as much of a treaty as they could manage before getting to this point, as a matter of course. Getting civilians involved in shinobi matters is asking for trouble, which is a belief that is proven correct almost immediately.

After greetings are given and gifts are exchanged, both sides settle on opposite sides of the pavilion. The very first thing that Shimeji says to them is, "While his Lordship is delighted that his vassals are pursing peace with each other, he worries that this attempt will be as unstable as those tried previously, and insists that in order for him to enforce this treaty some action is taken by the clans in order to ensure that agreements are abided by."

Yes, Hikaku had found those attempts while helping Madara look for some precedent for how to write this current treaty, but the last one had been over a hundred and fifty years old. They had been hoping the daimyo would not have found most of those records, because, embarrassingly, the Uchiha were very frequently the ones to break those treaties. They'd covered that up, of course, but within their own records, it's clear.

Perfect memory of the people who killed your loved ones makes it hard. But they're trying.

Given that Hikaku does not technically have any formal relation to the Uchiha main house, he is relegated to standing guard along the back wall, not allowed to open his mouth unless specifically asked to advise, which he does not think is going to happen in front of company. He cannot see Madara or Izuna's faces, nor the expressions of the cousins who sit behind them, but he has the perfect view of every twitch that passes through the Senju delegation. Hashirama gives a solemn nod, but interestingly, it is Tobirama who's brows furrow like he's just realized something.

Hikaku isn't sure if the Senju were aware of those failed past treaties or not, but Madara has gone into this meeting fully aware that it was a likely ask. Seeing as how the Uchiha do not marry nor foster their children out… They haven't spoken the words out loud yet. There is still a shred of hope in Hikaku's heart that it won't come to that. After all, Hashirama is already mated, and Tobirama may very well be incompatible, his orientation being the mystery that it is. Not even Izuna knows -- though he's adamant that he's not a beta.

He hadn't realized the Senju main line was quite that small though -- just the two of them. Which is a joke he might save for later; the men themselves are giants.

An answer isn't demanded yet, though it remains a specter over the proceedings as they continue.

The main things that they haven't been able to work out were the border -- which Hikaku suspects is going to be defaulted back to the river, what both sides owe to each other for the deaths of civilians, and what to do in cases where the clans are pitted against each other on missions, a topic on which a civilian perspective will be useless. That hasn't happened since the incident with Tobirama and Izuna last summer, but Madara has been getting increasingly careful with which missions he accepts.

The formality of the talks only makes them more exhausting. It takes nearly a month before the issue of the border is decided in exactly the way Hikaku had predicted -- a concession to the Senju over the next point: How much a widow should be paid, and how many each side has left behind.

It's not just the main house that's small, Hikaku learns. The Senju who come to the battlefield are all monsters because they have to be, when faced with such overwhelming numbers.

Which is to say that the Uchiha have far more families that have survived their main providers than the Senju do, thanks in large part to the population difference. Which explained why their initial figure had been so low -- nearly low enough to offend and end negotiations right there. They knew and were trying not to go bankrupt. The figure they do have to pay still isn't pretty, but allowed to be paid over a matter of years which should further discourage the breaking of the treaty from the Uchiha side, at least.

When the topic of missions is brought up, Hashirama quickly derails the conversation with his grand idea for a greater alliance -- one where the clans share missions and can assign the best suited individual, while at the same time making sure that they don’t end up in competing situations. No one stops him before he spirals into talking about a village, where all the clans of Fire Country could live under one banner and not have to fight each other any longer.

It's a lovely pipe dream, Hikaku can admit. One stopped by the way Shimeji says, "It is an interesting solution, Senju-dono. One I will bring up to his Lordship. But he is unlikely to agree until he knows even this treaty is a certainty. Have you given it any more thought?"

"Ah -- Well…" Hashirama's smile does not budge an inch, but he has gone stiff as a board, "I have, but I wanted to clarify… I was reasonably certain that the Uchiha don't practice arranged marriages?"

Hikaku feels the brief prickle of Izuna's chakra as his temper swells before he tamps it down. Typically, they don't. If they wanted to, it would be very easy for the Senju to frame the Uchiha's insistence on mating for love and protecting their bloodline as a refusal to adhere to the daimyo's request.

Madara is deceptively calm when he replies, "There are records of such things. However, we do not marry out."

Hashirama's smile fades to something small, and a crease appears between his eyebrows. That seems to have unbalanced him more than anything so far. He's struck speechless in fact, so much so that Tobirama leans forward to take his elbow and get permission to speak.

Hashirama nods, but he looks pained to do it.

Tobirama squares his shoulders and faces the Uchiha delegation. "That being the case, I think it best to inform you that we believe that the only reasonable answer to the daimyo's request is marriage, and that the only omega in the Senju main house is me."

The challenge behind those words is clear: are there any Uchiha even willing to marry the Senju Ghost?

Well, that's one mystery solved, Hikaku thinks, chagrined.

That evening Izuna tries to argue that they shouldn't do it, but if they have to, it should be him. Madara wont hear it. He says he won't force a marriage on Izuna, that this peace is his responsibility, and that the daimyo is likely to look more favorably on the traditional match between an alpha and an omega, besides.

Reading between the lines, Hikaku suspects that Madara isn't certain that Izuna won't try to kill Tobirama and vice versa. Possibly even on accident, considering their long history and ingrained instincts with each other.

Hikaku keeps his thoughts to himself -- both on the subject of the arranged marriage (which he does not like, but Madara has clearly already made up his mind, and has never changed it when Hikaku has attempted to try) and on that of Tobirama.

For as long as genjutsu has existed, shinobi have been in the business of obfuscating their gender, primary and secondary alike. Tobirama did not have to offer himself if he did not want peace to be seen through. But he had.

He wonders if the rest of the clan will see it the way he does.

It starts like this:

"My brother has expressed that he has no interest in a long courting period, so as not to slow down the peace process." Hashirama tells them, looking terribly morose, "But I am insisting on at least a few meetings before things are settled."

He does brighten considerably when Madara reveals that he is offering to marry Tobirama himself, which is… Something. It may be that he's pleased at the prestige Madara is offering, or…

Madara's meetings with Hashirama as a child is not something the clan knows about. It's not something Hikaku is supposed to know about, but Izuna's rants on his brother's sympathy for the enemy are not exactly subtle. Nor was the way the two of them greeted each other what was supposed to be the very first time they faced each other on the battlefield. Plus, while not quite yet Madara's friend at the time, HIkaku remembers how when they were younger the clan heir was suddenly given some incredibly tedious punishments with no reason given as to why.

He's reasonably certain that Madara hasn't kept up any communication with the Senju clan head, which makes Hashirama's reaction more than a little odd, but better the enemy you know, he supposes.

"What do you suppose is an appropriate first gift?" Madara muses as they prepare for the first meeting, "The traditional Uchiha ones probably won't cut it for this."

The  first gift is something to signify 'warmth'. Most Uchiha craftsmen work with metal and ceramic, so it usually ends up being something like a pot or a kettle to go over a hearth. A few historical tales have shinobi inventing new fire jutsu for their lovers, which, while fitting, would likely not go over well.

"…Maybe a blanket?" Hikaku considers, "Or a coat? A nice enough one would work, and suiton natured people tend to run cold…"

Hikaku blinks. "…He is water natured, isn't he?" Tobirama is rather famed for being able to do every type of elemental release, after all. They both turn to look at Izuna who is glaring.

"Oh, now you want to listen to me?" He huffs, "Tobirama is a shinobi before anything else. The only gift he'll appreciate is one that helps him kill us better."

"It's not that I disagree with you." Madara replies, dry as dust, "But that's not exactly helpful outoto. Giving weapons when the point is that we're doing this for peace is not wise."

Izuna rolls his eyes, "I don’t know what you want me to tell you. Yeah he's good with suiton, but it's not like I've ever held him down and tested his affinity for it."

The three of them fall silent for a long moment.

"…A weapon that doesn't look like a weapon? To show that we don’t underestimate him even when he is acting peacefully?" Hikaku offers. Madara looks thoughtful, but given that they're all Uchiha, their thoughts all immediately run to --

"A first gift is a little early for a war fan, I think." Madara says after a moment. A fan is usually the final courtship gift, sometimes even given during the wedding itself. Shinobi, of course, tend to opt for a tessen or a gunbai.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Hisses Izuna, "Just give him a stack of sealing paper so he can blow all our heads off easier."

"…He does know funinjutsu, doesn't he?" Madara muses. Izuna throws his hands up and stalks out of the room.

It's because it's personal that Izuna gets so upset. Hikaku has already heard him admit -- albeit, miserably and through gritted teeth -- that he does want peace, and is even willing to try for it; he just doesn't want it to have anything to do with marriage or Tobirama. Madara may want his brother's support, but he's not willing to push for it which is… Probably wise, in this case. Hikaku will try and pick up the slack.

"He's not wrong." Hikaku points out a moment after Izuna has disappeared, "Seals can be used for violence, but they don't have to be. I'm given to understand that Uchiha ink is considered high quality for things like that as well." Something about the purity of the charcoal that goes into it. All Hikaku knows on that subject is that its that its cheaper to buy ink outclan.

Madara tips his head back and closes his eyes to think.

"If we manage to avoid letting the Aburame know that this is something we need in a rush, we might be able to get away with some chakra neutral paper without having to pay out the nose for it." And even if they do have to, there actually is a little money to spare for something like that, at the moment,  "And… Hn. A pen, maybe? Uchiha steel."

"That could work." Hikaku agrees. It's not exactly warmth, but this isn't exactly normal Uchiha courting, either.

Madara blinks his eyes open to look at Hikaku, sharingian still slowly spinning from whatever memory he had just recalled.

"It should probably be fancy. Do you mind if I put you in charge of commissioning that? Since you actually have an eye for aesthetics."

…Admit that he enjoys painting as a hobby once, and his clan head has never let it go since. Hikaku bows his head to hide his faint smile.

"Of course."

Hikaku makes it a point to be on the guard for the 'courting' meetings as well, few as they are. As does Senju Touka, who is probably the shinobi that Hikaku has personally encountered the most on the battlefield. She coolly ignores him, and he does likewise.

(Never let it be said that Uchiha are immune to genjutsu. The things that woman can do with sound alone are terrifying.)

Seeing Tobirama like this is… disconcerting. The armor and fur have been replaced with a formal kimono -- a tasteful one even, but it doesn't do much to soften the man. Tobirama sits perfectly formally and keeps his expression unreadable. It takes him until introductions are finished before Hikaku picks out what it is that has him so off center. The armor and the larger silhouette offered by the fur were a sort of defense, just as Tobirama's careful control over his expression is now.

Hikaku can catch the occasional hint of Tobirama's scent from where he stands in the hallway -- it's not the usual sweet florals of an omega, but something more like a breeze from the ocean. Hikaku is certain he's never smelled it before. It's likely the first time Tobirama has not blocked it before leaving the Senju compound.

That control is the only defense Tobirama has left, ignoring any hidden weapons of course.

"I have a gift, to prove my commitment to this arrangement." Madara says, as softly as Hikaku has ever heard. Madara slides an enamel box across the tatami -- it is already a lovely piece itself, with art of Owatasumi as a dragon twisting through the ocean waves. Fitting, and an heirloom that they'd not actually had to pay anyone for.

No one does the disservice of complaining when Tobirama looks the box over critically like he's searching for a trap. They're shinobi, he should look, that's just good sense. When he slides open the lid, Tobirama's control slips, just for a moment. His hands go still and his eyes widen just a fraction -- more than enough for any Uchiha to notice, as is the faint exhale as he wrestles his control back.

Tobirama runs his fingers over the bottle of ink and the paper, but they linger on the pen. It's such a smell gesture, and Hikaku ultimately had so little to do in it's creation -- had only drawn up the pattern of waves that was now etched on the barrel -- that it should not make him feel warm with pride, but it does.

"This is a thoughtful gift. More than sufficient. Thank you." Tobirama bows his head, "I have prepared a gift for you as well."

Tobirama offers his own box, this one much smaller and carved out of wood. Madara, too, checks it over, and when he opens it, there is a note and a handful of little brown medicine balls inside. Madara, who is not bothering to conceal his emotions, looks baffled.

"Chakra replenishing pills." Tobirama explains without prompting, "An improved version. And the formula to make more. They're less sickening, and even overdoing it does much less damage to the coils than what is traditionally used."

That… Is big, actually. The Uchiha try not to use replenishing pills if they can help it, because the coils around their eyes can easily be damaged by getting the dose wrong. It's also quite telling. Madara had gotten a gift for Tobirama, because that's who he was marrying, while Tobirama had gotten a gift for a clan. It probably wont buy him any good will, but the reasoning makes sense.

…Did Tobirama make that formula himself?

"Yes this is… Good." Madara says evenly. Hikaku can only catch his shock after having known him so long, "Very good. Thank you."

That evening, after they've retired back to their rooms, Hikaku finds Madara smoking his pipe on the engawa.

"You couldn't see it from your angle, could you?" Madara asks without prompting. "He looked me in the eye the whole time. Made a point of it."

"Huh." Is all Hikaku can think to say to that. Is that trust or distrust? "What do you think that means?"

Madara exhales a breath of smoke.

"I don’t know."

It starts like this:

When Madara finds him after the fact, he looks horribly flustered in a way Hikaku hasn't seen in years and years. There's a the edge of a bite mark peeking out from the collar of his robe -- a mating bite, must be, seeing as how it's already stopped bleeding.

Which means that they've mated. Hikaku decides not to think on that too hard.

"I… Need to talk to the elders now. " Madara says, gesturing uselessly at himself. At the bite mark. "Prove to them that it's done. And I might... Go for a walk as well. Could you…?"

Oh, this is just making Hikaku feel bad. He's not sure he's ever seen Madara this uncertain.

"I'll take care of Tobirama." He promises. Had promised, back when Madara had given him this duty.

Assuming Tobirama allows himself to be taken care of, of course.

"Thank you." Madara's shoulders fall in relief, "Really, Hikaku."

"It's no trouble." Hikaku offers a smile that feels weak, but earns him one in return, "Good luck."

Hikaku feels his own anxiety grow as Madara leaves, as he walks across the house to the room where Tobirama --

Hikaku forces himself to pause, and pats at his face until he can force himself to stop blushing. Tobirama and Madara had done their duty to ensure peace would last, which was the important part. He stops outside the room, knocks on the door frame.

"Are you well Tobirama-sama?" He asks, softly, but certain the man can hear him. "May I enter?"

Hikaku can hear the sound of cloth shifting, but the silence that stretches afterwards is heavy.

"I am" Tobirama's voice eventually responds tonelessly, "You may."

Hikaku slides open the door to a sight that is somehow familiar. Tobirama kneels in center of the floor, perfectly formal and unreadable. The light in the room is dim, the futon is still spread out to the side, and there is no formal kimono. Instead, Tobirama has changed out his wedding attire for a yukata in Uchiha blue. The mating bite on his neck is larger, more visible.

Lonely. Hikaku thinks, startling himself, When he looks like that, he looks lonely.

"There is a private bathhouse attached to the building. I can show you, if it pleases you."

Red eyes study him for a long moment, but don’t meet his own like they supposedly did Madara's.

"…It does." Tobirama replies after a moment. Pushes himself to his feet with an almost imperceptible shakiness. Between that and the smell (sweat and Madara's anxious smoke being most of it)… Yes, they definitely consummated. Tobirama is even sore, which --

Which means a hot bath will be nice. Hikaku forcibly quashes down his thoughts about anything more. Tobirama moves soundlessly behind him as he leads the way, and Hikaku forces himself not to look back. That small self defense is something he can let pass without comment.

It's nerve-wracking, for such a short walk, but that's all it is. No words are exchanged they enter the room, as Hikaku kneels to start heating the water, as as he forces his eyes away from Tobirama and the obvious bruises forming on his hips as he undresses.

Tobirama sinks into the water with a soft exhale, and its undeniable that at least some of the tension leaves him, now that Hikaku can see it gone. He's about to take his own leave when, head leaned back on the edge of the tub to regard him, Tobirama speaks.

"You have questions." He says. Hikaku glances at him. Tobirama's body language would make him think that he doesn’t care at all about the situation he's in. He's a good actor, Hikaku can admit that after all he's seen, but to act as though he's alright with being questioned now?

Perhaps it's a different sort of defense mechanism. One Hikaku won't pretend to understand.

"I do." He agrees. Why do this? Why go this far? Do you get anything out of this? Who is this for, why are you alone? "But I can wait to ask them another time."

Hikaku bows his head.

"Please, feel free to call me if you need anything."

Tobirama does not.

It starts like this:

"One thing before we go." Madara says, at the tail end of another one of the meetings between him and Tobirama, "Given the sort of marriage this is, I thought it fitting to enlist… Additional help. A beta." He gestures at the wall for Hikaku, who steps forwards and bows.

"I'm not certain if you've ever been acquainted, but this is Hikaku."

'Acquainted', what a nice way to put it.

"…Not personally, but I have heard stories." A thread of faint amusement can be heard in Tobirama's voice. Which means he's probably heard every embarrassing thing he's ever done in front of Senju Touka.

"I look forward to taking care of you." Is what Hikaku says instead of vocalizing any of that. When he looks up, he is being regarded with a heavy gaze. Tobirama's undivided attention makes something sit funny in Hikaku's chest.

"Might I ask if you plan on bringing anyone along with you?" Madara asks, either barreling through the tension on purpose or entirely heedless of it. It would be Tobirama's right to do so, though whatever beta Tobirama picked would have to be brave indeed --

"Ah." Tobirama says, "No, I'm not."

It starts like this:

For all that Tobirama is now the mate of their clan head, most of the Uchiha look at him with distrust at the very best, and often in ways that are worse. It quickly becomes clear, as they settle into a new routine, that Madara hasn't the first clue how to interact with his new mate. Has no idea how to bridge the gap between them personally, much less between Tobirama and the rest of the clan.

Tobirama is not a man who shows that he's concerned with any of it, but were Hikaku in his place he knows he'd be an anxious mess. And the more he sees of Tobirama, the more he believes that he is a man more human than he wants to let himself appear.

Hikaku sees that no one else is going to reach out a hand. What else is it but his duty to offer his own?

The sun has set by the time Madara wanders his way back home, the early spring warmth giving way to a biting chill as the sun sets. He does not let himself look tired in sight of the rest of the clan, but the moment he's past the doors, out of sight of the guards he'd had to put on his own home for his clan's peace of mind, Madara's entire being begins to radiate tension.

Tobirama had called for Hikaku once, when he had finished bathing, so that Hikaku could show him where he was going to sleep. Not that he thinks Tobirama will be, but he's in his own rooms, now. It's private enough that Madara might be comfortable enough for --

"Tea?" Hikaku offers.

"Sake?" Madara counters, with a plaintive look that would be far more suited to Izuna's face.

"That bad?" Hikaku asks, even as he pushes himself to his feet to go find a bottle. Madara collapses to the ground across from where Hikaku had been sitting with a thump.

"Omuya spent twenty minutes chewing me out for not bringing Tobirama with me so they could make sure I bit him too. As if I would have forgotten." Madara heaves a sigh that edges into a growl at the end and goes quiet. When Hikaku glances back, he finds Madara staring hard at the hallway that leads to the room where Tobirama had retired to. He shakes his head, catches Hikaku's eye. "How is he?"

There is no worry to his voice, just a demand. Madara is not asking after Tobirama's health.

Hikaku turns back to the cabinet in front of him, fixes his gaze on the bottle he's grabbed as he thinks.

He could answer fine and he wouldn't be wrong. Tobirama had not let slip that he was unhappy, just as he hadn't during the meetings before the marriage. But isn't that even more concerning?

"About as well as could be expected." Is what he finally says, "I showed him to the bathhouse, and then his room. He didn't ask me for anything." He stands, takes a moment to make sure that the dish and cups are clean from dust, and turns to face Madara, "How are you?"

Madara, after all, had left in a state Hikaku had never seen from him before. He grimaces.

"Fine. I--" Madara scowls, "I don't know if I could explain it to you. Pour me a drink already."

Hikaku suppresses a sigh. Usually, when Madara says something like that, its not that he can't explain it, just that he doesn't want to. And more often than not, its something to do with his biology as an alpha. That subject, more than any other, raises all of Madara's defenses high. Considering what his job entails now, Hikaku really should pressure for a better answer, but he doesn't. With Madara, trying is not only fruitless, it will probably lead to someone getting angry. He carefully forms a jutsu to heat the sake and pours them both a cup instead.

Hikaku watches as Madara drinks and lets his eyes slide closed. With chakra stores like his this wont even be enough to get Madara tipsy, but the sake has a clean taste and the ritual of drinking it is enough to drain the tension from him, bit by bit. The only sound between them is the soft clink of ceramic every time he moves to refill Madara's cup -- Hikaku's tolerance isn't quite so high, so he's savoring his.

"Even though it's him I thought…" Madara speaks softly, without prompting, "I didn't think it would be easy, but with things like that instincts are supposed to help things along. But he…" Madara falls silent for a long moment, gaze falling back on the path the where Tobirama is resting, yet still distant.

"Why do you think he agreed to this, if he trusts us so little?" Madara puts into words the question that has been plaguing Hikaku all evening. If they harmed him, especially so soon, the treaty would be broken. If Tobirama believed they would do that, then why come here at all?

Hikaku hums in consideration. Shinobi are paranoid creatures, so for them the obvious conclusion would be -- "I'm sure Izuna thinks he's infiltrating to clan to betray as all later?"

Madara snorts, "He's mentioned something like that, yes." Madara shakes his head, takes another drink, "But if he's planning to betray us, then he's planning to betray the peace and his own brother as well."

And if that were his plan, why do it in a way that puts his life in the hands of his enemies? That restricts so much of his freedom? Madara, who believes in brotherhood above nearly anything else, may be naive in believing Tobirama would be willing to do this for his... Or he may be correct. Too many questions, but now that Tobirama is here, they might just have the time to unravel them.

"I think…" Hikaku replies after a moment, "It might be best to wait and see."

Dawn arrives, bright and chilly. Hikaku didn't sleep easy -- everything else didn't help, but honestly, he still finds the fact that he's living in what used to be Izuna's room weird -- and he knows no one else did either. Madara's eye-bags never go away, but they're darker than usual, and his hair isn't standing up at odd angles like it does when he sleeps on it.

He probably spent the night watching Tobirama with his chakra sensing to me sure he didn't get up to anything. Tobirama might have been doing the same thing back, if the polite minute he waits for him and Madara to be up and about is any indication. He makes no effort to hide his presence as he steps into the room, eyes sweeping over to take in the rice and tea that has been set out for a simple ochazuke breakfast.

Hikaku had made the tea himself, and checked the leaves, but the rice and pickles were brought over before dawn from the communal kitchen. While it's not likely that anyone in the clan would try to poison Madara in an attempt to get at Tobirama, it's not an idea they can neglect, either. Hundreds of years of attempted and broken peace treaties have taught them this much, at least. They've both silently checked for poison before Tobirama arrived -- he's certainly already more than aware of his precarious position, no need to rub it in.

Tobirama kneels at the chabudai, posture perfect, greets them with a soft "good morning" and a bow of his head, but his expression is not the perfectly blank mask he's tended to wear before now. Rather, there is a faint frown tugging just at the corner of his lips.

Uncertainty. And its fair, because Hikaku and Madara both match it. What now?

Focus on the immediate. The matter of breakfast.

Hikaku has never served a meal to Madara before, but when he reaches out to start making a bowl he meets his clan head's eye and holds it. Madara doesn't care for formal meals at home and as a shinobi tends to insist on serving himself regardless, but right now, relying on the rules of etiquette will make things smoother.

Madara is served first, and will eat first. He trusts the food, and he trusts Hikaku, and Tobirama would be rude not to do likewise.

Hikaku pours the tea, Madara claps his hands together without enough force for it to make a real sound.

"Thank you for the meal." He says. Lifts up his chopsticks and eats.

Tobirama watches for a long moment, and when he doesn't move, Hikaku starts to eat as well. Which is rude, but meant to encourage.  Maybe it works, or maybe Tobirama comes to some other conclusion of his own, because he lifts his bowl close to his face and starts eating a moment later.

No one speaks as they eat, tension slowly coiling.

Madara finishes first, and even though he isn't done, Tobirama sets his bowl down to look at him. He does meet Madara's gaze, if only for a moment, before lowering his head deferentially. A perfect act, if not one that's completely baffling.

"Was everything in your rooms to your liking?" Madara asks, tone carefully light.

"It was comfortable." Tobirama responds, which is not an answer, "May I ask what duties are expected of me?"

Hikaku suppresses a wince. Tobirama must be the type who prefers to rip off the bandage, getting right into the troublesome topics first thing in the morning.

"I think we're going to have to play that by ear." Madara huffs, "What duties would the Lady Senju be expected to fulfil?"

Tobirama narrows his eyes, clearly unimpressed at the transparent dig for information, but he does answer, "Any work done in support of the clan and to ease the pressure on the clan head is acceptable by Senju standards. My mother mainly took charge of training and deploying our kunoichi."

Madara blinks at that, once, twice, "I hope you'll understand why that's not going to happen."

Questions of loyalty aside, Uchiha train their kunoichi much differently from most clans. Their women and omegas are encouraged to be good at genjutsu, not seduction.

"I do." Tobirama says without a hint of hurt -- or anything else for that matter. The silence after his response drags on for a horrible few seconds.

"…If I could?" Hikaku asks, tongue sticking in his mouth. Madara stares as him for a moment before remembering that they are acting formally at the moment, that he's supposed to give Hikaku permission to speak, and nodding.

"Tobirama-sama." Now Hikaku bows his head to him, "What of the duties you did yourself before coming here? Are there any you particularly enjoyed?"

Now that they know that Tobirama was not only the only other member of the Senju main line, but it's only omega as well, it's not at all a stretch to assume he had taken up some of those duties himself, at least before Hashirama had gotten married.

"I did whatever my clan head asked of me." In Tobirama's voice, so faint it might be imagined, is amusement, "Mostly paperwork."

"…Sounds about right." Sighs Madara. His amusement is more obvious, though Hikaku hasn't entirely grasped what's caused it. Some in-joke about Hashirama, he supposes. His mind had gone somewhere else -- like, if Tobirama did so much paperwork, how much of the peace treaty passed through his hands?

But the levity of the moment fades as quickly as the conversation, Tobirama's other words settling in, too.

Whatever my clan head asked of me. Again, Tobirama is putting his fate in Madara's hands. With trust still being an issue, Tobirama will not be given the chance to do paperwork, either.

"Hn. Well… You've only just arrived." Madara says at length, "So for now, your duty is to get along with your new clan mates."

"Very well." Replies Tobirama, bowing his head again.

From his angle Madara isn't able to see the expression that passes over Tobirama's face, but from where he's sitting, Hikaku can.

It looks like discontent.

Madara excuses himself from breakfast not long after. Peace has made the vast majority of missions coming into the clan less dangerous, but also less lucrative, and sorting through which ones are worth the effort tends to take him most of the mornings. Before he goes, he fixes Hikaku with a meaningful look.

Keep an eye on him.

Of course he will.

Hikaku gathers up the dishes, but before he can set them out to be taken away, Tobirama asks, "The food. Does it come from a communal kitchen, or are there other servants that don't stay in the house?"

There's something hard in his voice -- because I could not be trusted near them, it asks.

Well in this case Tobirama's fears, if that's what they are, are unfounded.

"We have a communal kitchen." Hikaku shares, and surely there is no harm in telling Tobirama something he will easily be able to figure out for himself, "Most of the homes near the center of the compound will eat at the meal hall. Those who live further out usually cook for themselves" And the clan head gets his meals delivered, which will be obvious if it wasn't already.

"I see." Tobirama's eyes linger on the bowls in Hikaku's hands, "In that case, in the spirit of getting along, perhaps I could return the dishes myself."

It's… Not a bad excuse to be out an about, though whether actually going out is wise is another topic entirely. But Hikaku has no intention of keeping Tobirama confined to the house, so he says, "Allow me to show you the way."

It's not a question. Tobirama won't be moving around without an escort for a while, if he ever will again. Tobirama knows it too, the way he nods without hesitation.

It's still quite early, but most Uchiha tend to rise with the sun, so the compound is already bustling -- until it isn't. Silence falls like a wave over Hikaku's kinsman and he forces himself not to linger on the eyes that rest on him and the way he's casually trailing behind the source of everyone's unease.

Many of the people up and about at the moment are craftsmen, not able to recognize Tobirama on sight -- but the man's looks are distinctive, even if he's traded out the fur mantle and happuri for another yukata in Uchiha blue. Their reactions are shock, recognition, fear; their children go quiet and hide behind legs, watching the stranger with innocent incomprehension. The few shinobi that are moving about -- those who haven't been following the two of them from the beginning, go tense, and wary, sharingan spinning to life and hands drifting towards weapons.

But, Hikaku realizes with a twisted sort of irony, no one's first reaction on seeing him is to attack. He's always been too dangerous of an enemy for that, and for as long as he can remember the orders for engaging with him have been go get Izuna.

Someone probably will, assuming he's not watching already.

Tobirama catalogs all of those reactions and walks on without hesitation, bowls balanced in one hand. He does not pause when his looks back at Hikaku -- his nose, not his eyes. Just… Baffling -- in an unspoken question.

"The largest building." He answers with a nod towards the building in question, low enough not to be heard by anyone else, but well aware that his lips are being read, "The one with the red noren. Since you're returning dishes, we can go around the back."

Tobirama's response is a slight nod, trajectory changed without a trace of hesitation in his steps. For some reason, the thought that stirs to the front of Hikaku's mind is 'that's got to be tiring'.

Three quarters of the way across the widest road in the compound, nearly where they're trying to go, there's a sudden commotion. A scuffle, a thud, a shout that's suddenly muffled as two people fly out from around a corner, one gripping the other by the shoulders and trying to hold them back.

One is Jun, who is on the guard that's shadowing Tobirama. The other, Hikaku realizes with a pang, is Asahi, red faced, teary eyed, furious.

Hikaku knows him, has stepped in to teach him on a few occasions because he's better then most his age with doton and shurikenjutsu.

Almost three years ago now, his older brother was found dead on a mission, on a mud covered battlefield. Drowned on dry land.

Tobirama had caused such deaths before. It was easy to attribute the death of that squad to the Senju Ghost, to tell Asahi that it had taken the strongest, scariest Senju to take down his family. And Asahi is young, not even old enough to have ever gone out onto the battlefield, but that might only make the sting of what's happened worse. He's never had the chance to take revenge, and if peace holds, he never will.

The young boy wrenches his face out of Jun's grip. It would be easy for the older shinobi to silence him again, but he doesn’t.

"Let! Me! Go!" He crows, the smell in the air going from agitated-bitter to acrid, "Why are you defending a monster?"

Tobirama does stop now, if only because the two are directly in his path. He doesn't look troubled by this development, though at this point Hikaku would be surprised if he did.

He needs to de-escalate, and Hikaku thinks the boy respects him enough to listen, but when he opens his mouth to try, Asahi's wrath filled gaze snaps to him, spinning and red. Enough to make him pause.

He didn't have that before. Hikaku doesn't know if Asahi manifested his sharingan for the first time just now, but he can't have had it for long. The first memories you keep with your sharingan are important. What he says next is important --

"He's killed us!" Asahi howls, voice breaking, "So many of us! and he's walking around free?"

"Asahi --" Hikaku starts, but all reproach does is make the boy does is bare his teeth and get louder.

"Defend yourself! Apologize! Stop just standing there!"

All Tobirama does is tilt his head, but it still sends a wave of tension across the onlookers.

"Would any Uchiha apologize for doing their duty?" Tobirama asks. Someone in the crowd scoffs -- they wouldn't, just like Tobirama wont, but to offer so little sympathy to one so young--

"Asahi." Hikaku breaks in, stern, but gentle, he hopes, "He's here so that no here will have to lose their brother to a Senju ever again."

A complicated expression flickers across Tobirama's face, seen, but unreadable, before it settles back into neutrality. His eyes drift from the scene in front of him back to Hikaku, and though he's seemingly still speaking to Asahi, his are fixed on him when he says, "The desires of an individual need to be considered carefully before placing them over the desires of the clan."

Ah. Hikaku wishes he could draw some kind of conclusion from that -- As it is, it's not a bad sentiment, but one that Asahi will likely not listen to, coming from Tobirama.

Also, a not insignificant portion of the clan share Asahi's opinion.

But for now their words are enough to have the boy falling silent, even as Tobirama steps his way around him to continue on. Confident that there are more than enough eyes on him at the moment, Hikaku lingers behind. He drops a hand on Asahi's head, which keeps the boy there as surely as Jun's arms did, even as the tattooed shinobi lets him go.

"I know it's not easy." Hikaku says softly, meeting those still-spinning eyes, "And no one's asking you to let it go. But please, try to keep in mind that pain you're feeling is what we're trying to stop."

Asahi snaps his face away and down, and Hikaku sighs and takes his hand back, heart twisting. Hopefully something in that stuck, even if the boy has no idea of the politics of the whole situation. He looks up at Jun with a wry smile.

"Keep him out of trouble?" He asks.

Jun's eyes flick down the road, land on Tobirama's back, "I could ask the same of you."

Which is dismissal enough, as is the way Jun leads Asahi away by the shoulder.

It only takes a few long strides to catch up to Tobirama. Neither of them comment on what's just happened. If Asahi is the worst or the last of it, he's sure they would both be pleased.

"There" Is the next thing he says as they come to the back of the building. There are rows of ovens out here, mostly open to the air. The smell of cooking food drifts out into the compound, and people dart about, on some errand or another. A young woman holding a bucket steps out onto the road where the two of them stand -- a kitchen apprentice, civilian, Hikaku isn't sure if he remembers her name -- only to freeze when she notices Tobirama.

A bellow of, "What, are you struck by the beauty of nature? Get going!" and sends her scurrying away, faced ducked down and flushed. The voice's owner appears behind a moment later -- the head of the kitchen Ami-obaa herself  drying her scarred old hands with a washcloth.

She's a retired kunoichi, someone somehow managing to convince her way back when -- for she's more than twice, maybe even three times Hikaku's age -- that the loss of an eye and the birth of her children were a good enough reason to step back from the battlefield and serve the clan in other ways.

(Two of those children, and two of her grandchildren have died, at least half, Hikaku knows, at Senju hands).

Madara trusts her immensely, enough to eat whatever food she shoves under his nose, and Hikaku trusts Madara, which means he trusts Ami as well at least in matters of food.

In matters of not saying anything embarrassing, however, he has no trust in her at all.

"Tobirama-sama." He starts "This is Ami-obaa-san. She's the head of the kitchen."

"A pleasure to meet you." Tobirama says, sounding nothing but genuine, if bland.

" Were you in charge of breakfast this morning?" Hikaku asks, in an effort to have some control over where this conversation might be headed.

"I was." She says with a smirk and a too shallow bow -- but she doesn't bow particularly deeply to Madara, either, usually claiming an aching back, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Tobirama-sama. I see you have something of mine?"

"I do."

He holds out the bowls and she takes them, neither of them so much as pausing because that would be akin to showing fear.

"How dutiful. And polite!" She chortles, "Maybe you'll finally be able to hammer some manners into Madara-sama's head, eh?"

Tobirama's eyebrows go up a fraction. "I'll keep that in mind, if it should please you." Which is about as diplomatic as a response as could be had, in this situation.

Ami barks out another laugh.

"It would!" She says, and then, "I can't help but notice none of my useless clan mates here bothered to ask your favorite food. If I'm cooking for you, I've got to know!"

Tobirama's lips part but no sound comes out. He seems at a genuine loss for words at such a simple question. And -- They don't know. It hadn't been real courting. Hikaku has no idea about even little preferences like that, and he knows Madara doesn't either.

"Unadon." Tobrama blurts in the most blatant break from decorum Hikaku has seen from him so far. Tobirama's lips thin, continues much more sedate, "But I know it's not an easy thing to prepare. There is no need to trouble yourself."

"Oh, I won't be troubling myself." There's a sparkle in her eye that Hikaku isn't sure is playful or malicious, "But if you don't mind, I've got to start getting lunch ready."

"Feel free. But… Would you mind if I observed?" Tobirama holds up a hand, slow enough that it's clearly not an attack, "I've only seen cooking on this scale done for festivals and the like. I'd be interested in seeing the logistics in doing such a thing every day."

Ami stares at him for a beat too long before shrugging and saying, "Well, if that's the sort of thing that interests you, feel free."

So, they do. Ami runs a such tight ship that even with Tobirama watching them work does not slow. And he does seem to be actually interested, red eyes focused here on the ovens, and there, where someone is walking with an armload of steam baskets, and over there, where someone's just arrived with a handcart of eggs. Hikaku has been on kitchen duty before, nothing that's happening is anything special. It shouldn't be special to Tobirama, even with his self-proclaimed lack of knowledge, and Hikaku spends his time trying to figure out what he's looking for.

Tobirama watches silently for nearly half an hour before, leaning back, and quietly asking "The food the main house receives is the same as everyone's else, yes?"

And oh, Hikaku feels like a fool for not realizing immediately. Hadn't they tested their food for poison just this morning? Risk assessment. How easy is it to kill me? Given a chance to explore the compound of an recent enemy, that was the first thing Tobirama had done.

Well, he's certainly practical, but Hikaku knew that already.

"Yes." Hikaku replies. "Unless we asks for something specific. But Madara-sama isn't picky, so he usually doesn't."

That seems to be enough to sate Tobirama, for now. He nods.

"I'm fine to return now, unless you had any other business to attend to."

"Me?" Hikaku knows his shock is poorly hidden. This might not have been his ideal way to spend a morning, but he's known for a while now that there was no sense in him making other plans,  "No, we can go back to the house if you wish."

A nod, a step back. Hikaku calls out, "Thank you for the hospitality, Ami-obaa-san!" because if he lets Tobirama do it he fears things might get strange again.

"You'll help, next time you're here!" She calls back. Looks up from where she's leaning over another oven and winks at Tobirama, who's cheek twitches.

There are no incidents on the way home, but Hikaku leaves unsure if the head of the kitchen intends to cause trouble for Tobirama or Madara.

The house is silent on their return, the guard that's followed them back making themselves almost too obvious from the lack of movement. Tobirama stops on the engawa, turns to look out at the garden, at the koi pond, at the few bit of green that have managed to sprout this early in spring. His thoughts are as inscrutable as always, but when he turns his attention on Hikaku, it comes with a question.

"Is there," He asks, "Anything for me to read?"

Is there anything I am allowed to read?

Of course there is, the Uchiha have a large library of copied material among other things, which he suspects Tobirama knows -- but it's the conspicuous lack of boundary pushing that sets Hikaku uneasy again.

"Of course." He replies, reminding himself that Tobirama hasn't even been here a full day yet, "Is there a particular subject you're interested in?"

"…I will leave the specifics to your judgement." Tobirama responds after a beat, "But something that might help me better understand my new clan mates, if possible."

He's not quite parroting Madara's words from earlier this morning, but they might be what inspired the request. And there's that thought again, why go that far, if you don't mean it?

"I'm sure I can find something." Is what he says, still holding his questions behind his tongue, "Please, give me a moment."

There are a number of options that spring to his mind, the first, unhelpfully, being those old accounts from clan heads past on why their versions of peace did not hold. As enlightening as those were…

Definitely not something he should let Tobirama see.

No, the sensible thing to do would be to find some story or history that every Uchiha is familiar with, one of the ones they use to teach children lessons about the world. Hopefully, Tobirama will read it and see that they are not so different after all. Or else, he will see that they are very different, which may be just as enlightening.  Hikaku has certainly learned some strange things about the Senju clan throughout all of this -- who buries their dead?

Madara is in still in his office when Hikaku slides in, frowning down at a letter on fancy parchment. He looks up so quickly as Hikaku walks in one that could almost mistake him for being startled, but Hikaku's practiced eye can see the stress in the way he holds himself.

"Trouble already?" Madara asks, falsely mild. If he hasn't heard about what happened with Asahi already, Hikaku will be sorely surprised.

"Nothing that hasn't been dealt with already." It's not really his place to speak to the boy what happened, but Hikaku might still try. "And nothing we didn't expect. Though… we might be served unadon in the near future."

He relates to Madara what happened in the kitchens as he searches the shelves, Madara's ashy stressed scent slowly mellows as Hikaku drones on -- the immediate future is not what he's concerned with at the moment -- and he feels suddenly hyper-aware of the trust Madara is putting in him, to trust his judgement like this. He only wishes he was more certain his own judgement was right.

The book he's looking for does not really belong in the office of a shinobi, but for some reason Tajima kept it here, and Madara never saw fit to move it. All of the text in it is handwritten, and there are scattered illustrations done in shaky freehand. It's clearly a someone's first attempt at copying a text with a sharingan, though who's attempt and why it was made is a mystery to him.

"Do you think Tobirama would enjoy The Tales of Amaterasu-Omikami?" He asks as he finally finds the plain-spined book on top of a shelf.

"…I really don't think so, no." Madara shoots him an incredulous look, "He really doesn't seem like the religious type."

But they don't actually know that, and more relevant, it's this or Hikaku making a trip out to the archives to find a festival-play script of some past Uchiha war hero that doesn’t reveal any clan secrets.

Oh, they'll have to consider what to do about that when summer hits.

He'll probably end up going anyways. The book he's about to hand over isn't a long one.

He pauses as he turns to go, hand on the fusuma.

"Do you need help with anything?" He asks. Madara heaves a sigh.

"I'll get your opinions on a few things once I've put more thought into them myself." He waves Hikaku off, "I can handle my own work in the meantime."

Tobirama is investigating the irori when Hikaku returns, though what would possibly be interesting about that, Hikaku has no idea. He accepts the book with a quiet "thank you" and a nod, and sits right there by the hearth to start reading without another word.

That's how Tobirama spends the afternoon. Hikaku finds himself strangely off balance -- he normally keeps himself busy, and while he technically could leave Tobirama to his own devices, it does not feel right to do so. In end end, he decides to make more tea, finally asking a question, if one that's rather inane.

"Is there a type of tea you prefer?"

Tobirama does not blurt out an answer this time, just glances up for a moment, then shakes his head before returning to his reading.

…Sencha it is.

Right around the time he finishes, Madara leaves his office.

"Sending out squads." He grunts as he passes through. He's leaving just before lunch, and Hikaku would never call Madara a coward, but he does shake his head when he notices his clan head passing the teen carrying an armful of bento towards him.

Lunch is steamed buns with bamboo shoot filling. Tobirama does check it for poison -- not obviously, but it's a hard thing to hide. They eat in silence, Tobirama still dutifully reading. Quickly, too, Hikaku will probably have to make that trip to the archives tomorrow, if not sooner.

If he had spent the day with Madara or Izuna like this, Hikaku would have thought of it as a nice, lazy afternoon. But with Tobirama, he just feels wrong-footed. It might be easier if he let himself think of this as a sort of mission, but Hikaku purposefully does not let himself fall into that mindset. This is not a mission, this is -- probably -- the rest of his life.

Hikaku resorts to his own reading as the day wears on -- trade missives from their allies that Madara has let sit at the bottom of the paperwork pile for too long already. It's nothing that should be too dangerous if it gets seen, and Tobirama doesn't even try. Eventually, the omega sets aside his own reading and appears to meditate.

He almost wishes Tobirama would go out into a training field and do something, just so Hikaku has something to focus on besides the endless stream of questions he's trying to be patient about.

Madara returns as the sky is starting to go orange with sunset, more food balanced in one hand. Back in time for dinner, though the scowl and the set of his shoulders is telling. Madara may not be very approachable, but the Uchiha clan has ways to make its opinions known. At his approach, the two of them rouse themselves from their spots and go to wait at the chabudai.

"I'm home." Madara calls as he ducks through the door, more habit than anything. Tobirama's eyes flick towards him, lips parted, like he's unsure if he's meant to reply or not.

"Welcome home." Hikaku calls in his stead.

Madara pads into the room silently, pauses when he enters. He glances at Hikaku but his gaze lingers heavy on Tobirama, who is looking right back.

"Did your day go well?" Madara asks.

A pause. Consideration.

"It did." Tobirama replies.

The truth of that statement is impossible to discern, and Madara does not push for a clearer answer -- nor does he bring up Asahi or put himself at risk of having to apologize for his clansmen's behavior. He simply nods, crosses the room, and evidently already tired of the formality that they'd tried at breakfast, sets the boxes down and begins serving himself. It's soba, but the meat and vegetables are a bit thin, this early in the spring.

The three of them eat without a word passing between them. As happened in the morning, Madara finishes first and sets down his dish, and though Tobirama hasn't yet he follows immediately after. Surprisingly, the omega is the one who speaks first.

"Who would I talk to if I were looking to procure an ichimegasa?"

"Is that something the Senju do?" Madara asks immediately, furrow to his brow. It seems unlikely, the long veil is something in fashion with civilian nobility; shinobi care far less about protecting their so-called virtue. But the way his expression shifts from questioning to realization, it's clear that Madara spoke before thinking too deeply, likely coming to the same conclusion Hikaku does after a few moments of thought.

The Senju don't ask their women and omegas to hide their faces or else they likely would have heard of it before now -- Tobirama is asking because, where he is, right now, a barrier between himself and the eyes on him will be useful. Not even for himself -- he can't imagine Tobirama will at all enjoy the decreased range of vision -- but for the clan. To not have to see Tobirama Senju, The Ghost, Scourge of the Uchiha, when they look at him, but instead a reminder that he is Madara's wife. Normally one should not have to wear such a thing in their own clan compound but… Well. Needs must.

"They do not." Tobirama says, all but confirming it.

Madara thinks for another moment longer, frown deepening, but if he finds an objection to this, Hikaku thinks it will only be because he did not think of it first.

"We must have one stored somewhere." He says at length. And he probably does, if not from a past Lady Uchiha who was more civilian-minded, then leftover from some high-rank assassination where it helped someone get close to their target, "And if we don't they are easy enough to make."

He doesn't even have to look at Hikaku for him to respond, "I'll look into it after dinner."

"Appreciated." Tobirama bows his head. Then, he hesitates.

"Would it also be possible," He asks, "To obtain some incense and a burner?"

…In the same vein, burning a strong smelling incense is something high-born omegas do to hide their own scent. But Tobirama has been completely blocking his until recently, and unlike the sight of him his scent is unlikely to get any adverse reactions.

But it's a reasonable request, and though Madara stares at Tobirama for a long moment before answering, he does eventually say, "I don't see why not."

There's nothing Tobirama can do with an incense burner that he can't do with a jutsu, after all. It is an extension of trust, however tenuous, for Madara to not question it.

"Thank you." Tobirama says, and he bows deeper, this time. It's enough to seem almost genuine.

Hikaku does in fact find an ichimegasa stored in the attic, among other clothes that he reminds himself to get properly tailored to Tobirama -- if Madara is invited to the Daimyo's court, Tobirama will be nearly required to go with him, and it would not do to have him dressed in anything but the Uchiha clan's finest. But, that's for later. For now, he smooths out the fabric of the veil, sees that it's whole and entirely too fancy for something that is meant to conceal someone's identity -- someone had managed to stitch tiny mitsudomoe into the hems --  and brings it down to Tobirama, who checks it over thoroughly before wearing it out the next morning.

The days afterwards go something like this:

They eat a quiet breakfast. Tobirama takes the dishes back to the kitchens, and Hikaku follows. Afterwards, he asks to be guided to some place in the compound -- Hikaku's choice, with the reasoning being that he should see everything, eventually, with the fact that he would never be permitted to do so on his own unspoken. Hikaku finds places to go -- to the public bathhouses, to the temple built at the highest part of the compound, to the fields of vassals as they prepare for planting, on the side of the compound he doubts a living Senju has ever seen.  He wonders if Tobirama has noticed the places Hikaku isn't taking him yet, the buildings shrouded in generations worth of genjutsu that only a sharingan can pierce.

There are no other incidents. In fact, the two of them are not approached again by anyone at all.

Tobirama gives each location his full focus, sometimes spending hours examining every last detail -- he'd paid particular attention to the farmland -- yet never sharing his conclusions. Hikaku can't decide whether or not it's suspicious; it's entirely likely that he's taking the excuse to spend as much time doing something as he can, for once they go back for lunch he spends the rest of the day reading whatever book Hikaku hands him. Madara will arrive in time for dinner, but conversation is strained and stilted, if it is there at all. Afterwards, Tobirama will bathe in private, and either continue reading or disappear into his rooms for the rest of the night.

Hikaku still has other duties to attend to throughout the day, but he finds that the empty routine is quickly growing stale. He can't imagine what it must be like for Tobirama, who all their information suggests was always working.

Nothing about this has helped him get a better picture of the man, either. If he were willing to believe in the surface level, than Tobirama would come across as unfailingly polite, if reserved. He keeps up the facade well. If they didn't have more information on him from before -- if Izuna hadn't been fighting him for years -- Hikaku might eventually begin to believe it. But they do, and because they do Hikaku can see the hairline cracks in the personality Tobirama is using as a defense.

He doesn't know how to begin to see beneath it, is not sure that he should even try, and if he should, then perhaps not so soon. But if Tobirama is meant to stay here, if peace is meant to last, surely he can't keep that up forever?

…Well, maybe he can. And maybe it would be safer if he did. But curiosity itches Hikaku's tongue in every moment of quiet between them, which is most of them. And so, one of those days, just after lunch and before Tobirama begins reading -- he's moved onto a scroll about clan laws, now, which is incredibly dry but also appears to actually interest him -- Hikaku kneels next to him where he sits on the engawa.

"Would you mind," He asks, even though he maybe shouldn't, "If I asked you a few questions, Tobirama-sama?"

Tobirama does not often let Hikaku catch his eyes lingering on him, but he does now, giving Hikaku the same focus as he has every other part of the Uchiha clan. Hikaku is too well trained to let it show, but the look makes nerves flutter in the bottom of his stomach.

Tobirama leans back, regarding Hikaku coolly, but ultimately his response is a steady, "Feel free."

It's not exactly encouraging, nor does it promise an honest answer. Better to test the waters with a less important question.

"Well, first… I have to admit, I'm curious about what Senju Touka might have told you about me."

That prompts Tobirama to raise one eyebrow -- no doubt he sees what Hikaku is trying to do, here, but it's not enough to make him defensive, quite yet.

"…You were a frequent topic of complaint, for her." He responds after a moment. And then, "You broke both of her ankles. Twice."

Had he? A simple, but effective earth technique, and so one he uses frequently, is to soften the ground beneath his enemy's feet when they don’t expect it. He knows that he's caused more than his share of sprains and twists, but not breaks. He blinks.

"She's quite good at walking that off, then. I hadn't even realized." He says, knowing he's failed to completly scrub the sarcasm from his voice.

"She is." Tobirama agrees. There's a twitch at the corner of his mouth, the hint of a smile. Of fondness. He likes Touka, and he… He probably misses her. Tobirama may very well be homesick.

But if that's true, if he is…

Senju Touka is an alpha, as far as he can tell -- not that his assumptions on that front mean much of anything, considering he'd thought the same about Tobirama -- and wouldn't have been an option to join Tobirama in coming here. But there must have been someone…

"I…" He does not mean to hesitate, but Hikaku does not exactly think kindly of her. He may have broken her ankles, but she's given him scars and nightmares of his own, "I hope she is adjusting well to peace."

"She might be doing better than you're imagining." Again, the twitch of a lip, which Tobirama turns and faces the garden to hide, "She's close to Hashirama, after all."

And had Hashirama not welcomed the idea of peace with such open arms, it likely would not have happened.

"You are as well." Hikaku points out, struggling for a way to phrase what he means politely. Tobirama is Hashirama's brother, and yet no one can quite make themselves believe that Tobirama wants the same as him, "I don't believe I've taken the time to thank you, yet."

A glance, a raised eyebrow. For what? The look asks. Hikaku suppresses a sigh.

"It can't have been easy to agree to this marriage, or to try living your life among former enemies. But without it, I don't believe peace would have been possible." He says, "So, thank you."

Tobirama looks at him fully again, an unreadable look on his face. His scent doesn't help clarify things. It's been growing stronger, Hikaku thinks, but he cannot pick more out of it than salt water even this close.

"Ease was never a factor." He says, "I have a duty to uphold this peace now, and I have no intention to falter."

If that's true, it's the most enlightening thing Tobirama has revealed about his motivations so far. But before Hikaku can ask further, Tobirama continues, "I know that there are those in both clans, and beyond, who would see what we have unraveled. Those who are willing to set aside old hurts are few and far between."

Red eyes finally meet Hikaku's own and he has to suppress a shiver at the weight of that gaze. This is a test he's certain, but has it always been? Will it always be? He hasn't done anything to raise Tobirama's suspicions, as far as he knows. But that in itself is probably enough to have Tobirama on edge, in these circumstances. And in this case, there is no reason to give Tobirama anything but the truth.

"But they do still exist." Hikaku counters, "And some may not have hurts as deep as you're assuming."

He takes a steadying breath. There is no harm in offering this part of himself, much as the idea of doing so might make his palms itch.

"My closest friends have always been Madara-sama and his brother." He says, "And all the members of my family who would have gone out to fight the Senju died doing so before you would have ever taken to the battlefield. You have killed people I've known, but not in a way that's ever been personal." He's worried terribly after Izuna, yes, and felt grief over his lost clansmen, but his mother has never been in danger, and with that bit of distance it had been much easier to view the feud between the clans as something that brought more misery than pride. It is with an aching honesty that he admits quietly, "I am of the belief than an opinion formed of an enemy should not be the same as an opinion formed of a man. And if the war never restarts, I will be glad for it."

Tobirama does not react for a long moment, then he leans back, considering.

"I suppose if that's how you feel, then Madara-sama made a wise choice in bringing you into his household."

Wise? Probably not, considering the dubious reasons that made Hikaku agree, not that he'll be sharing that with Tobirama. Instead he calms himself and asks the question that has been plaguing him since before Tobirama even arrived.

"I appreciate the kind words." He says, "But would it not have been wise for you bring someone as well?"

Tobirama looks away again with an expression that makes Hikaku think that, had he not caught himself, Tobirama would have rolled his eyes.

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself, and always have been." He sighs almost imperceptibly, "And not everyone is so adept at occupying themselves as I am. It would have been pointless to take resources from the clan and bring them here."

Somehow, the answer is both vague and layered. It is at once a complaint of the lack of freedom Tobirama has, another resolution of his commitment to duty, admittance that there was no one he trusted enough to bring, or if there was, that he didn't value his own comfort and safety enough to deem it worth doing. Again, assuming any of it is the truth -- though Hikaku wants to believe that it is.

"Well, I hope you don't mind being under my care too much." Hikaku answers after a moment. He knows Tobirama did not have a choice in that either, "After all, that is my duty."

Tobirama hums in response, non-committal, but not hostile, either. But though the conversation stalls there the silence between them does not feel uncomfortable, for once.

Perhaps that’s the reward that comes from making an attempt at understanding.

Izuna is conspicuously absent, until he isn't.

Hikaku has run so short on ideas for places that he knows are safe to show Tobirama that this morning they've ended up at one of the fields their shinobi use to spar and train. It's nothing more than a few upright posts and some packed dirt, everything worn down and scarred from constant use. There's truly not much to see, but Hikaku suspects that somehow Tobirama will find plenty to look at here, regardless.

When they arrive, Izuna is waiting. He's leaning back on one of the posts, sweat beading on his brow like he really had been using it to train. Tobirama pauses at the scrubby bushes that ring the area. He does not tense, but as Izuna pushes himself straight and walks towards them he pulls in a breath and holds it.

Hikaku knows that Izuna has been warned against starting anything, and he knows it wont to stop him, if that's what he wants to do. He's been assuming that Izuna has been avoiding the main house up until now for that very reason, but now he's here, and though he's not otherwise dressed for battle he keeps a hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Izuna may want to, but Hikaku has to trust that Izuna wont start a fight. The time to break peace without consequences already passed ages ago.

"Strange, isn't it?" Says Izuna once he reaches the place where dirt gives way to grass, just close enough that no one has to raise their voice to be heard. He tilts his head to one side like a particularly imperious cat, "I can't even greet you as a Senju anymore."

Tobirama twitches. It may be that Izuna has found a weakness and dug in his nails, or it may just be that Tobirama doesn't like that Izuna is the one pointing it out. Hikaku knows Izuna well enough to read the faux-casual posture as a cover for agitation. There's a very real chanceTobirama knows it, too.

"Is it?" Tobirama responds coolly. "You were at the wedding ceremony if I recall. Both of them, in fact."

"I guess I was." Says Izuna idly, "Not that they were good ones. Still, worked out well for you, didn't it? Two ceremonies was all it took for you to be able wander around our home as you please."

There's a set to his jaw, and he doesn’t so much as glance at Hikaku, but Hikaku gets the idea that he's just upset with him for enabling that.

….He should try to calm things down, but that's hard when it comes to Izuna. Nothing he can think of short of promising to lock Tobirama away for the rest of his life would placate him.

"With the intention of making it my home as well." Tobirama counters icily. "Unless you've forgotten why I'm here."

"Right, peace." Izuna says sarcasm dripping from a sickly sweet smile, "Because you cared so much about that when gaining your reputation for having no mercy, didn't you?"

Tobirama bares his teeth in something between a sneer and a snarl, the tiny jerk of his shoulders moving the veil just enough to reveal his expression. It occurs to Hikaku that Izuna has already gotten Tobirama to be more animated in a few words than he's ever seen him before.

"That was duty. Now this is."

Izuna takes a dangerous step forward, and reflex has Hikaku moving too, getting between them, raising his hands, his own adrenaline spiking.

He's ignored.

"So your brother ordered you to play at being a helpless civilian hime and sniff around our compound, then? I didn't think he had it in him."

"My brother's greatest desire has always been peace, and now he has handed that dream to me." Tobirama leans in, fists clenched, but unlike Izuna there's no weapon between his fingers, "I will not break his trust, and if you do then perhaps it will serve as a realization that his dream cannot be achieved."

Izuna narrows his eyes and leans back.

"So you're saying." He says slowly, "That you don’t believe in peace, but that you're here to try and make it work anyways? No, that's too idealistic for you. I don't buy it."

"Don't put words in my mouth." Tobirama releases a hissing breath and forcibly relaxes his stance, though his voice remains tight and the scent of brine peeks through the smell of the sandalwood incense he's taken to burning, "And don't act as though the only reason this peace came about isn't because the Uchiha felt in control of it the entire time. To me, peace is not something to be believed in, it either is, or it isn't. As long as it's here, I'll do my best to keep it that way."

…For all of those words, Tobirama has still managed to avoid saying how he feels about peace, though the fact that he views it as something the Uchiha control is telling, maybe.

"Hn." Is all Izuna responds with, the weight of all his disbelief packed into one syllable.

Then he shakes his head.

"Whatever." he says, "You know I'll be watching. Are you finally done pretending like you're not a shinobi, yet?"

"I'm not pretending to be anything." Tobirama remarks acidly. A pause, a breath, "If this is your way of asking for a spar…"

He seems like he's really considering it, and Hikaku finally finds enough words to plead, "Please don't."

They both finally look at him, and Hikaku spares a brief prayer for patience that he has to explain this at all. He knows that both of them must know, but apparently Tobirama has a temper, and Izuna likely doesn't care.

"If anyone sees the two of you fighting without any warning, they're going to assume the worst."

Izuna's wrinkles his nose.

"So you really did come out here just to look around." He turns his head, tossing his ponytail over one shoulder dramatically, "Well, if you want to let yourself get rusty, don't let me stop you, honorable brother."

He walks away, and once he's disappeared past the first line of buildings, Tobirama surprises him by saying, "That could have gone worse."

"It could have." Hikaku agrees faintly. He'd let himself get to complacent, he thinks, had already forgotten that many still see Tobirama as an enemy rather than a grudging ally.

 As for what Izuna will do in the future… Hopefully nothing too dramatic. As long as Tobirama acts in accordance with what he's said.

"…You are free to use the training fields yourself if you wish." He adds after a moment, "I didn't intend to give you the impression otherwise. Just -- ah. Be mindful."

The tilt of the hat and swish of the veil gives the impression that Tobirama is tilting his head at him.

"Perhaps later." He says.

When he can make a single hand sign without sending the compound into high alert, perhaps he just might.

Madara hasn't gotten into the sake again since the night Tobirama arrived, but ever since his mate has retired for the evening he's been eyeing the tansu where it's stored like he wants to.

Dinner had been quiet after everyone had given thanks for their meal, but Madara kept glancing at Tobirama, dark eyes intent with something. He never said a word, and Tobirama hadn't reacted despite the way the smell of smoke built and built and overwhelmed nearly everything else.

It's likely just Madara getting too into his own head. Hikaku has seen it before, and the subject of his thoughts tonight is obvious. When said subject is out of sight, Hikaku moves to begin clearing the table and asks, "Did Izuna talk to you?"

"Izuna?" Madara blinks up at him, seeming genuinely taken aback, "Not today, no. I assume he would have if he thought something was actually wrong."

"…Ah. I thought he might have put you in a mood, is all." Hikaku admits. Madara shoots him an unimpressed look, as if to say 'I'm not in a mood' even though he clearly is.

"No, not Izuna." He says, "Just a lot of little things."

Fingers drum on the table, and Madara's eyes drift, as they do more and more often now, in the direction of Tobirama's rooms.

"How long do you figure it should take a shinobi to get settled in when living with a former enemy?" He asks

"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about that." Hikaku admits. The thought has been in the back of his head for a while now, but when Tobirama had brought up duty again he known the conversation would have to come soon. "I think it's about time you give him something to do."

"Do you now?" Madara teases, glancing at Hikaku from the corner of his eye, "Half a month and you think you're able to get a read on him?"

"No." Hikaku refutes rolling his eyes, "But I have spent most of every day with him since he's arrived here, and I've noticed a few things."

He doesn't say it to chastise Madara for the way he's been all but avoiding his mate, but his words do anyways; the glimmer in Madara's eye is swiftly replaced with a frown.

"He's very dutiful, from what I can see so far." Hikaku persists, "And probably feels useless without a purpose beyond just existing, so having a job do to might help  him settle. And -- well. If he stays idle for too long he'll probably find something to do on his own."

"Idle hands make work for others." Madara unhappily quotes a phrase that Hikaku can remember Tajima using on more than one occasion, "No, that all seems right. But Hikaku, what can I trust him with that the clan will accept? That won't be taken as an insult? That won't show off how we don't trust him, or the Senju, or the peace?"

Hikaku's lips part for a long moment before he closes them, soundlessly. He'd only thought the political implications as far as keeping the clan happy, not as a balancing act that needed to assuage the Senju as well. But Madara isn't wrong.

What can they allow Tobirama to do? The few ideas he'd started to form no longer seem workable with that angle to consider.

Madara reaches up to rub at his eyes -- something he only lets himself do when he's really and truly tired. And how had Hikaku missed that happening? He'd been focusing so much on Tobirama when Madara needed his support as well, and now here he was with hardly anything to offer.

Hikaku glances away, lets the guilt squirm in his stomach for only a moment before steeling himself and straightening his shoulders.

"I think Tobirama-san is smart enough to see the same things you do. If he plans to cause problems, it won't be this early, and if he's personally insulted by whatever duties you allow him, he won't raise a fuss about it." And if he does, then they'll know how he feels about peace, after all. "If he agrees to play along, the perception of the Senju can be controlled," and if he does not, then this will be impossible, anyways, "which just leaves the clan. We'll think of something Madara-sama, I promise."

Madara leans back to look at him fully, a smile that Hikaku hopes is fond pulling at the corner of his lips.

"You always get so formal when you're fired up." He says, with a soft huff of a chuckle, "But I see your point. Let's think of something."

In the end, something comes to them.

They head to bed that night with a few tentative ideas, most of which Hikaku will have to follow up on to see what the clan thinks of.

Hikaku shows Tobirama to the plum orchard the next morning -- they're at the tail end of blooming, and every stir of wind sends petals cascading around and to the ground. Tobirama's scrutiny is as intense as ever, and Hikaku watches him, idly wondering about the oft-repeated phrase of Senju having 'tree-blood'. The idea of bringing the mokuton into the Uchiha bloodline had helped sell the idea to more than a few of the elders, but the Senju had never once raised it as a concern.

Hikaku lets himself sigh as a gust sends down a shower of petals. It seems he only ever gains more questions.

That afternoon, they're settling in to eat lunch, when Madara slams open the door, open scroll held right in front of his face.

"I cannot decide if your brother is brilliant, or a fool." He announces, tossing his weight down to join them at the table.

Seeing as how Hikaku has no siblings, he glances at Tobirama, who's only tell for his confusion is the way his eyebrows have jumped high.

"He's frequently both." Tobirama replies after a beat, "What has he done?"

Madara lowers the scroll, sharingan still slowly spinning from where he'd been recording it's contents. Tobirama goes entirely still at the sight, and it only now occurs to Hikaku that he's likely never seen it used for anything but battle, and certainly never so casually. With his eyes still active Madara is certain to have noticed, but he chooses not to comment.

"If you recall there were points in the treaty negotiations where your brother would go off and wax poetic about his dreams of a shinobi village. Well, apparently, he took the fact that no one told him it wasn't going to happen and decided that it damn well was, because that thrice-damned bark-for-brains got it in his head to go and propose the idea to the daimyo." He tosses the scroll down for them to see as emphasis, sounding furious and baffled all at once, "And he thinks it's a great idea!"

"Well, what daimyo wouldn't want unprecedented control over his most powerful shinobi clans?" Tobirama deadpans. And then, with a slight frown, "…It would not take much more than a token protest on your part to stop the idea at this stage."

Madara crosses his arms, sharingan fading to black as he looks away with a scowl.

"…I never said the idea itself was a bad one," Madara huffs, "but the way he's going about it is going to end in disaster. He could have warned me. Now I've got to rush and figure out a way bring this up to the elders before we get called into court or something just as asinine."

With the perceived threat gone, Tobirama's shoulders slowly inch down.

"Allow me to apologize on my brother's behalf." He says a slight tilt of his head, "He frequently gets ahead of himself. If you would allow it, I could write him and remind him that a collaborative project requires communication."

Madara blinks, slowly turning to face his wife. His expression is inscrutable, even to Hikaku.

"You were never forbidden from writing to your family."

Tobirama bows his head. A nod of acknowledgement that does nothing to reveal whether he knew that already or not.

It's not enough for Madara, who chokes off a low growl before it becomes a real sound.

"You are not a prisoner here, and making one of yourself will not help to build the trust we need to make this peace permanent."

Tobirama's expression remains cool as he looks up.

"And yet to misstep so early on would doom it before it could truly begin. There are already those who are worried about the information I've gained just by being in the compound. I saw no need to stress things further by giving an opportunity to be accused of passing that information along." He gives a light shrug, "However if we're to come together in an entirely new village, not having an open line of communication will be impossible, and much of the information I could share would be worthless, besides."

Madara deflates a bit, but he still argues back, "I'm sure your brother would like to have heard if you were setting in well, at least."

"I'm sure he would." Tobirama agrees, "And he will, now."

When he does write the letter later that afternoon Tobirama spares exactly one line to say "I am settling in as well as could be hoped for" and most of the rest of his space tearing into Hashirama for moving forward on his plan without proper forethought, for leaving his allies unprepared, for over-promising on an idea that may not even be possible.

"However" He adds at the end "I have left some notes that should be of some use when it comes to the physical practicalities of actually building a village. They are filled under your name in the cabinet my lab. I left Mito with the key to access them and trust her to keep you from getting ahead of yourself again.

Regards,
Uchiha Tobirama."

When Tobirama hands him the letter, Hikaku finds his eyes lingering on that part more than any other -- Madara's do too, when he reads it (They are, after all, taking Tobirama's security concerns seriously). Any lingering doubts he might have had about Tobirama wanting peace to fail are wiped away with a few strokes of ink, because above all else, Tobirama seems like a man who does not like waste his efforts. There would be no reason to plan for something he only intends to sabotage himself -- yet in the same letter,he claims that it might not even be possible. Were those notes a part of his own dream, or something done to indulge his brother's?

Hikaku knows he still doesn't know Tobirama, but he suspects that if he asked the man himself he would say that his own feelings didn't matter. That it was duty, in some way or another.

But Tobirama is only a man, Hikaku thinks, and a man's entire life cannot only be duty.

For all that Tobirama's routine does not change much, it does start to feel markedly more productive.

Hikaku still walks with him in the mornings, though having shown Tobirama everywhere interesting and safe already, the omega picks his own path. It's more meandering; with the opportunity to pick his own distractions Tobirama's attention is drawn to everything from livestock to architecture and, more than anything else, people. On the rare occasion that his presence doesn't disturb those he's observing, he seems content to stand back and watch for hours.

"I wonder." Hikaku muses one morning, not really expecting an answer, but slowly gaining confidence in speaking to the man. "Are you seeing similarities? Or differences?"

Tobirama glances back at him.

"Both." He answers.

They return for lunch. Tobirama reads, and reads voraciously. He no longer accepts whatever Hikaku hands him, but instead requests books on specific subjects: Imperial land laws and tax codes. Maps for elevation and watersheds and clan borders. The sort of things you'd research if you thought you were going to be creating a new village.

(Hikaku can hardly imagine it. Peace is one thing, and he's quite enjoying it, but asking both sides to live close to each other and keep that peace seems near impossible. But if Madara wants it, if Hashirama wants it, if Tobirama works for it, if he works for it, maybe impossible doesn't matter.)

His work ethic is frankly a bit terrifying, though Hikaku supposes that's to be expected. If Madara isn't there for lunch Tobirama will work straight through the meal, reading and scribbling down notes with one hand and feeding himself with the other, spreading books and scrolls across the entire room. And Madara isn't present often, because he's visiting the elders he'll need to convince to support this new path forward, trying to convince the people who will be against it the most to give it a chance. He may very well be spending most of that time with his own brother.

But when Madara is there, Tobirama is surprisingly demure about it all. Madara will ask what he's been doing, and Tobirama will answer "Reading." Madara will ask, "Reading what?" and Tobirama will give the titles and subjects, but not any conclusions he's drawn.

It's not an attempt to hide information. It can't be, Not when Hikaku is the one bringing him the books, or when he takes his notes openly and easy to be read. For some reason Tobirama will not volunteer his observations unless asked, and Madara is so clearly growing frustrated with having to ask.

"It's like he's expecting us not to care." Madara complains one day, then scowls, because that may very well be exactly the problem. "How can I build trust with someone who so completely refuses to give it?"

"With time." Hikaku reminds him gently. It's not even been that long, it would be more surprising if Tobirama did start to warm up to them so soon, but no one has ever accused Madara of being a patient man, "Opportunities will come. You just have to make sure to take advantage of them when they do."

Hikaku tries to take them too, when he sees them.

Peace has created spaces for things Hikaku hasn't had time for in years. He'd gone through his belongings when he'd moved them to the main house, but now he takes the chance the truly dust them off. One evening he re-reads a thin poetry book -- the first thing he'd ever bought with his own money, though he told everyone that it had been a fuma shuriken that he'd later lost on a battlefield. One evening, he sits in the garden and does breathing exercises that he's shown to others but can't remember the last time he's done himself.

One evening, he pulls out an inkstone and brush, quietly sits next to Tobirama as he reads, and paints the view from the engawa. The garden and it's koi pond, the buildings of the compound, the trees and the mountains behind them all; if his efforts turn out well, he might gift it to Izuna as a not-quite apology for taking his space here.

Tobirama is reading -- Hikaku recognizes it's the bound report he'd him brought this morning, an old report on the security of the capital city, of all things -- but his attention seems to be drawn more and more to the lines and washes of ink he's carefully laying out as the sun sinks low in the sky.  Hikaku is beginning to suspect that the key to getting Tobirama to open up may very well lie in appealing to his curiosity, because it doesn't takes long before Tobirama says, "I would have thought such a skill would not be considered useful in a clan with the ability to perfectly recall what they see."

Hikaku glances up at him, a wry pull to his lips, "Actually, I was introduced to this hobby to train my sharingan. But that's not why I still do it."

Tobirama tilts his head and leans closer, ever so slightly. Examining the Hikaku's work, but really, showing his interest. Hikaku considers his explanation for a moment.

"Determining what's important to look at when your eyes can see every detail doesn't come naturally to everybody." He settles on, "Learning to look at things in broad stokes helps. And… Well, I do it because I enjoy it, Tobirama-sama, not because it's useful."

Tobirama purses his lips at that, looking as perplexed as Hikaku has ever seen him.

"…I see." He says after a beat.

Spirits, Hikaku thinks, does this man have a single hobby?

Best not think on that too hard, he decides, because he might not, or if he does it will only be because it has a result he's deemed 'useful.' Hikaku understands the urge, truly, he does -- it's why he's not touched his ink and brush in years -- but to live like that forever that sounds exhausting.

(It had been exhausting. The war had to end before Hikaku could take a moment to just breathe).

He moves his arm slowly, deliberately, and paints the bend of a branch that hangs over the koi pond.

"I'm not trying to capture a perfect likeness of the world when I do this," Hikaku says softly, "But an idealized one. And there's space to think of such things, now that there's peace."

"So there is." Tobirama agrees, just as quiet.

They don't speak again, but though Tobirama's book remains open on his lap, he does not turn another page for the rest of the evening.

Two days later, Madara arrives for dinner with two scrolls under his arm.

"The daimyo." He announces dourly, "Has invited us to join him at his summer court to discuss the future."

Tobirama nods. It's come sooner than they expected, but it's not a surprise.

"And Hashirama --" Madara fumes, "--Has a whole lot to say, and not a bit of it practical."

He all but throws the larger of the two scrolls on the table, and Tobirama picks it up to scan over. When Hikaku gets the chance to read it later, he'll agree with Madara's assessment. Hashirama's dream of a village is apparently not only for the Senju and Uchiha, but for all the shinobi in the land of fire, to live in peace with each other and not have to compete for missions, with no mention of how to convince them, or who will govern them, or where such a village would even be.

Tobirama does not look surprised at the contents in the least.

"I've made a list of some laws and precedents you may want to leverage in order to ensure the daimyo does not take much more control than he has already." He says after a moment, "And since Hashirama has neglected to mention it, I have another list of sites worth surveying to see if they are suitable locations to build. That will be worth bringing up early, since if its not immediately near either compound the daimyo will have to grant us the right to build there."

Madara is openly staring, and Hikaku ducks his face into his mantle to hide a smile at the sight of it. He thinks he might understand -- Tobirama will offer information when he's asked, or when he thinks it is most useful, but not before. It might be a habit born from being a shinobi, or from having an older brother and clan head who appears to be very distractible. Both, maybe.

"Right." Madara gathers himself after a moment, "Well. Let's see it, then."

They all work well into the night, writing the first draft of a formal proposal, Tobirama's studies and quiet interjections laying a surprisingly easy groundwork to build off of. None of them will be going to court for a while yet, but they'll have to come up with a version that the clan, and Hashirama and his clan can agree with before they arrive. A united front will be important if they want to keep any leverage.

A lifetime of instincts has them all waking up with sunrise the next morning, regardless of their fatigue. As usual, Tobirama gives them a few minutes before entering this room himself.

The moment he does, Madara's head snaps up. It's a quick movement, and the way he stares at Tobirama is almost animal. Instinctual, Hikaku's mind supplies, and so he quietly takes a deep breath of his own.

Mostly, the room is full of Madara's overpowering campfire scent, but Tobirama's is stronger than normal, enough so that Hikaku can pick up the tang of salt. But it's nothing too extreme, nothing he couldn't chalk up to a shift in emotions. Alarm at Madara's reaction, perhaps.

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

Ah. Or that.

Hikaku curses internally. He hadn't asked when Tobirama thought this might happen, but he should have. Being prepared for this is a large part of the reason why he's here.

Tobirama's lips part, then close as he glances down at himself, seeming just as shocked as Madara is at the revelation.

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

But they probably should have expected this. Tobirama is so non-typical for an omega it's often easy to forget that he is one, but he's been living under the same roof as the alpha who he'd mated and consummated with. Personal feelings for each other aside, that would wreak havoc on anyone's biology.

Madara breaths in to say something, pausing for a long moment as his expression going tight around the eyes.

"How do you want to handle it?" He asks, voice carefully controlled, though Hikaku can see the way his hands have balled into fists where they rest on his thighs.

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 I'm expected to bear your heirs." Tobirama says after what feels like an age, "But if it is an option, I would prefer to wait until the future is more certain." With his head bowed, the next thing he says is so quiet it could almost have been imagined, "Into a village, should it be built."

Until he knows they wont be born right back into another war. Until he can go through the experience closer to people who he can trust, and not just surrounded by those he's given himself over to.

Madara lets out a slow breath (breathes in through his mouth, Hikaku notices, but Tobirama's scent still seems so mild, to him).

"That does seem sensible." He agrees. "In that case, I think it's best if Hikaku takes care of you."

Hikaku looks up, sharing a brief a look of incredulity with Tobirama. When they both turn to Madara, color crawls up his face until all the visible skin is tinted puce. What Madara is 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 gruffly, shoulders coming up like he can hide his face entirely behind his hair. "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-sama." He clears his throat and tries to fight off his own rising blush, "How do you want me to help?"

Tobrama's eyes slowly track from Madara back to Hikaku, and he suddenly remembers Tobirama's statement from weeks ago. "I am more than capable of taking care of myself, and always have been." He had probably meant that in this context, too, so maybe...

"Boil some water for tea and bring it to my rooms." Tobirama says after a moment, dashing Hikaku's hopes. Tobirama 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 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 coiled so tightly it looks painful. Like an alpha, he means, like Madara, like your mate.

Tobirama nods stiffly.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt." He says a moment later, like he's only just realized he hasn't spoken yet.

Something about answer that makes Madara tense impossibly further, but he takes another measured breath, nods, and pulls off his hanten jacket in a jerky movement. He blinks down at it for a long moment before leaning down to nuzzle his face into the fabric. Hikaku politely pretends not to notice the way Tobirama watches 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 an arm.

It would be a wildly inappropriate time to laugh. Still, the urge is there, bubbling hysterically behind pinched lips.

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 rooms before Hikaku can ask for clarification.

Hikaku sighs and turns to look at Madara. Now that Tobirama is gone his expression has pulled into something that looks almost ill.

"Madara-sama?" He asks.

Madara doesn't move, besides flexing his fingers. Madara's scent has turned to choking smoke and ash so thick it almost makes Hikaku cough.

"I--" Madara tries, "He wasn't-- He's my mate." Then, all in a rush, "He's my mate, he's about to be in heat, and there wasn't a hint of interest in him."

That wasn't what the body language Hikaku just saw implied, but Madara is clearly smelling something that Hikaku can't. He wants to reach out to try and offer some comfort, but Madara looks like he's about to vibrate out of his skin and he knows it would probably only lead to him being snapped at for trying.

"He probably still thinks of you as a stranger." Hikaku tries. It's the best explanation he can come up with that isn't a direct insult to either man. That Madara isn't insisting Tobirama do his marital duty when things are still so tense between them will only be a good thing in the long run, he thinks, even if Madara's instincts don't agree with that right now.

"He's my mate." Madara snaps back with a growl. Then he drops his head and shakes it, a long breath hissing through his teeth before rolling his shoulders back and standing. "I'm going to patrol the border."

"Stay safe." Hikaku replies with a tired smile. It's for the best that Madara get away for the moment, and guarding his territory is one of the best ways to get his instincts under control that Hikaku knows. Madara glances down at him, a expression complicated.

"Good luck." He says, before he too disappears out the door.

Now alone, Hikaku groans and lets his head fall against the table.

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

The possibility had been there, true, but he'd not thought it would be so soon or unexpected. Tobirama --

He hopes that this does not ruin whatever understanding he's been forming with the man. He gives himself a few more seconds, then pushes himself to his feet to go boil some water for tea. It feels like kettle starts to hiss entirely too quickly, and he's forced to grab a book from the stack Tobirama has been reading through more-or-less at random.

Hikaku scowls at himself. Trained shinobi and here he is getting nervous 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's done stranger, much worse things on missions.

It would be easier, he thinks, if this was a mission.

Tea tray balanced on one hand, Madara's hanten and a book under the other -- and he's still got no clue about that, but Tobirama suggested it and he's just --

He's just here to help. That's all.

It's awkward to rap on the door, but Hikaku manages it, and also to push it open when after a moment Tobirama calls, "Come in."

The pale man is kneeling in the center of the room,  tins of dried leaves opened and their contents mixed together in another bowl.

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

Hikaku does not allow himself to make a sound 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 kneel across from Tobirama.

This… is not how he'd imagined he might end up with Madara's clothes on. Not by any stretch.

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.

"Ah. Is it medicinal?"

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

Oh, well that's…

Different clans have different methods for such things, and this must be the Senju way. Some of the weight constricting his chest lessens. However this goes, he can at least take some relief in knowing it won't be as bad as it could have been.

Hikaku forces himself not to fidget as the tea steeps. He wants to ask if Tobirama needs anything else. If he is, in fact, capable of taking care of himself, but he doesn't dare imply that he'd rather be anywhere else. This is his duty, after all, and he strongly suspects that if Tobirama does need help, he wont ask for it.

Tobirama reaches out and pours himself a cup of tea without giving Hikaku the chance to do it for him. He downs in one go like shot of alcohol.

"My heats are quite mild." Tobirama says at last, He blinks, and now that he's looking, Hikaku can see that his movements have gone just a little sluggish. "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."

"…Alright" Says Hikaku, forcing himself to swallow around a dry throat, "How do you want me to help?"

"Hm. Just sit on the futon, for now." Tobirama gestures, and Hikaku mechanically moves to follow, moving the pillow to the side and kneeling where it used to be.

The futon has a few extra blankets on it, but not the huge amount of material he'd expect from a nest. Maybe this is all a utilitarian man like Tobirama needs?

Tobirama watches him, head tilted in that curious way of his.

"Stay like that." He says. So Hikaku does -- stays frozen in place to Tobirama pulls himself closer in one smooth movement, eyes scanning over him consideringly, and oh, how that makes Hikaku's heart pick up with nerves, much as he wishes it didn't. He'd thought that maybe Tobirama would be the type to view this as a thing to just get done with and out of the way, but if he wants -- more, Hikaku will try.

Tobirama leans forward, all but draping himself over Hikaku's lap. One arm loops around his waist, and the omega turns his face bury it where the fabric of the hanten has bunched up near one of his thighs. He shifts about. Gets comfortable. Sighs.

…Huh.

"Does Madara truly trust you this much? Or are you one of those betas who has no mating instincts at all?" Tobirama's voice drifts up, muffled by fabric.

"I would like to say both." Hikaku replies, heartbeat slowly settling, "But no, I don't feel the urge to do anything from scent alone."

Some betas do have the ability to read scents, and some even have the ability to scent themselves, but Hikaku is not one of them.

"…Convenient." Tobirama mutters into the fabric, "To not be ruled by ones urges."

"Not always." Hikaku says, "I can't tell what a stranger is feeling from scent alone, and often don't get the full context of conversations."

"You also can't be fooled and manipulated with a sense you don't have." Tobirama turns, peering up at Hikaku from his lap, "And I assume you don't have to spend so much time indulging your bodily urges just to function."

"I… don't." Hikaku agrees. The heat in his cheeks feels like it might become a permanent fixture, at this rate.

"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.

Tobirama huffs, rolls over to more firmly bury his face in the hanten, forcibly evens out his breathing like a shinobi trying to catch sleep on a mission, and that seems to be the end of it.

Pet his hair? Hikaku thinks a little hysterically, once he feels like he can breathe again. Some omegas can get through their heats with only the presence of someone trusted around, and that must be the kind Tobirama is and he'd --

He'd let Hikaku do it. He could have taken the hanten and sent Hikaku away after he'd brought tea, but he did not. He cannot possibly be trusted, not to this point but -- well. What other option is there for Tobirama, even if all he wants is a warm body near him while he sleeps? Him and Madara, and Madara doesn't seem to even trust himself, at the moment, so really only him.

…It's still a little flattering. And more than a little surreal.

Hikaku stares down at the figure in his lap for entirely too long to be appropriate, but Tobirama seems to have meant it when he said he was going to nap. His clan head's mate, who not so long ago was considered one of his clans worst enemies, is sleeping on his legs.

...He looks surprisingly young, like this. Tobirama always holds himself so severely that he seems like the oldest one the the room, but face slackened in sleep, Hikaku is reminded that he's younger than Madara by a few years.

He's pretty, Hikaku thinks idly. It's the sort of thing he can see Madara preening over. A pretty mate, who's strong and cunning to boot -- if only they actually liked each other.

Time and patience, he thinks with a slight shake of his head. They might not, in the end, but they almost can't now. Not yet.

Tobirama is apparently content to lay like that for hours, which Hikaku supposes, is why he recommended he bring a book. The one he'd grabbed is a ledger of another clan's rice harvests and taxes, but looking for anything interesting in that feels better than sitting with his own thoughts. His legs starts to cramp, eventually, but Hikaku doesn't dare move -- this is well within the realm of discomfort he can handle, and much less than he thought he'd be feeling today.

It must have been almost three hours when 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." He looks and sounds annoyed, voice still slurred with sleep.

Madara was --?

Well, he had been doing it unobtrusively to anyone but one of the best sensors in the world. To have finished 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 with a strong overlaying spice. He hadn't recognized the change in Tobirama's smell, but Hikaku has known Madara long enough to know what he smells like going into a rut.

He should have predicted this, too. After all, Madara's new mate had gone into heat right in front of him.

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

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

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

"Tobirama-sama." He turns to the omega, who has been watching 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 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 turning his back. 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.

Hikaku dreams.

An unfortunate side effect of the sharingan is the way the dreaming mind will bleed into the memories it's captured. Vivid nightmares are common. Oftentimes, distinguishing between dream and reality is more difficult than recognizing a genjutsu, and mistaking a dream for a memory isn't uncommon if care isn't taken to separate the two on wakening.

He's had this one before. Madara towers in front of him, heat radiating off him like he's just come from battle and there's still fire in his chest. His eyes are sharingan red, looking at him with a single-minded intensity, and he wears this self-satisfied smirk, like he knows he's just won something, or he's about to.

He stalks towards Hikaku like the self-assured predator he is. Hikaku takes a step back, but it's a game. He knows it's only a matter of time until he's been caught and cornered, until his back hits the wall or the floor or --

This time, his back hits something solid, and just a little warm. The air is knocked out of him, and he twists to see. His back rests on a solidly built chest, he has to crane his neck to see its owner's face. Tobirama pins him with red eyes, expression unreadable as usual, except for the way he tilts his head, the way he does when he's found something curious. The moment of distraction allows Madara to catch up, to press close until Hikaku is pinned between them, completely breathless.

There are no words between them, their breath, warm on his skin, and the friction of bodies pressed together, and --

Maybe it's for the best that Hikaku wakes up before it goes any further.

It only takes him a few moments to pull the the dream apart from reality. He's alone, in his own futon, in a room that is his, but still mostly unfamiliar. His entire body feels too warm, he groans and turns to hide his face in his bedding, though there's no one there to see his reaction.

Logically, he knows why his dreams took such a turn. His instincts, dulled as they may be compared to an alpha or omega, do still exist. Of course they would react to a day with an omega in heat laying sprawled in his lap, same as they do -- and did -- to catching the spicy scent of Madara's rut.

It's just instincts and hormones, he reasons. Just a dream. Nothing he hasn't suffered through before.

Nothing he won't have to suffer through again.

He's had dreams comparatively much worse than this, but he still managed to look Madara in the eye afterwards. He's practically an expert at it by now, and his feelings on Tobirama are vastly different from the ones he has for Madara. It will be easy to keep him none the wiser.

And now he's woken up earlier than normal. Hikaku rouses himself, washes with unheated water, and then goes to make tea for breakfast. He's not on his own for long before Madara silently joins him, and as usual Tobirama appears a minute after.

Everyone has been staunchly refusing to acknowledge the awkward tension that's been in the house since Tobirama's heat ended.

Hikaku is certain he's not imagining it, despite how everyone is acting more-or-less the same. In fact, it's in the way nothing changes that he sees the problem; Tobirama has just been as vulnerable in front of them as he's ever been, and nothing has come of it. Madara does not reach out, though it's clear to Hikaku that he knows he needs to, Tobirama defaults right back to his tight self-control, and Hikaku is left unsure how to start building something between them. If they're really going to try and build a village together, they're going to need something there. At least he thinks so.

Just a single conversation, he silently pleads over the wordless breakfast, just one thing in common, that's all you need!   But if he's going to lead them to that, he has to know what Tobirama even likes, and despite everything he's still not sure. He doesn't think they'll manage to form any connection over the fact that Tobirama likes unadon, not at the stage they're at right now.

"…You ought to start making a list of things to research when we go to the capitol." Is Madara's awkward way of announcing his departure today, "If we're building a village from scratch there's no reason not to make it modern."

It's not bad advice, and Tobirama nods in silent agreement, but Hikaku suspects he was already planning to, if he doesn't have one already. As far as conversations go it's… Well, it's better than nothing.

"On that note," He adds, as Madara turns to leave, "We ought to let the tailor get started on something for you to wear to court now, so it will be ready by the time we go. If you have time today?"

Tobirama hesitates for a moment, and his lips part like he's about to protest before he pulls himself back into stiff formality and he nods. Hikaku makes sure his expression does not falter either, though he wants to sigh. Even if he could activate his sharingan without alarming Tobirama, he's not sure that it would do anything to help him read his expression; he'd be better off using it to steal a Yamanaka technique to read his mind instead.

"I'll let Tsuki-san know to expect us later today, then."

Tobirama only nods again in response, and though Hikaku waits for a long moment afterwards, he does not voice any complaint. Which should be expected, by now, so Hikaku steels himself and adds, "If you have any concerns, please feel free to let me know."

Tobirama frowns at that, but this one is not fleeting like the last. He’s nearly given up hope for a response when Tobirama says, "…I don't like the idea of having new clothes made for me. But I understand the need for it."

"Ah." Hikaku blinks, "Is there… A particular reason you don't?"

"The clothes that I brought and have already been given are more than sufficient for most things, and normally I would consider having more made a waste of time and resources." Tobirama’s mouth pulls to the side as he slowly turns his piercing gaze from his meal and onto Hikaku. He is reminded, very suddenly, of the dream he woke up from, and swallows it down, stomach clenching uncomfortably. "But I understand that my circumstances are now different than they once were, and with that comes a change in expectations. The things I would have worn to court as the Senju heir would not be acceptable as Lady Uchiha."

No, they wouldn't be. The Senju aren't a noble clan, and so there are restrictions on the sorts of things they can wear to court -- well made as their clothes are, there are some colors, patterns, even fabrics that they simply aren't allowed. Ones that the Uchiha are, and for Tobirama to arrive wearing anything less would likely send a statement that they do not want to.

Reading between the lines, Tobirama has never had the lessons on etiquette that noble clans must adhere to, nor has he likely ever seen the ceremonies that the Senju would have been excluded from. He will likely be able to pick up on such things quickly, but there is no reason to force him to, and no reason to risk any embarrassment.

"I think I understand." Hikaku responds, just as carefully as Tobirama raised the concern in the first place, "And while I don't imagine the clothes are negotiable, I might be able to get you some reading about why they must be worn." If not that, he's certain he can find a guide on the rules and manners of court, because there's one that gets passed around to anyone who needs to go undercover. "And while I haven't been to court as much more than an observer, I can tell you about what I've seen there. If you'd like."

Tobirama's eyebrows tick up, and for a brief moment there is visible surprise on his face before his whole expression softens into a look Hikaku has never seen there before. He doesn't know what it means.

"Yes," Tobirama says, "I would appreciate that." Then he stands. By the time he's upright, the expression is gone. "It sounds like we have a lot of work to do today then, so let's go."

By noon Tobirama is halfway through the guidebook Hikaku brought him, and he has a list of questions nearly as long as the text he's read. Hikaku has tried to answer what he can, but Tobirama seems intent on asking about edge cases he's never seen, nor even considered, and there is a whole section dedicated to omegas, a topic on which Hikaku has no insight at all.

"…There is a seal I can use to grow out my hair faster if need be." Tobirama muses, tapping his pen on the red line on his chin, "But I imagine the styles here are probably out of date, with how fast those sorts of things tend to cycle."

"Shinobi clans have more leeway anyways." Hikaku points out.

"And Madara will be there as well." Tobirama says, though it seems like it's more to himself than to Hikaku. The words make him pause -- Does Tobirama think that Madara has the final say over how he should wear his hair? Or is he acknowledging that it's what the nobles in court will assume?

"…I suppose we'll have to ask him his thoughts." Hikaku replies, tentatively. "But that will come later. We ought to prepare to visit Tsuki-san."

Tobirama sighs softly, but he sets down his pen and sets to straightening his robes and finding his hat.

The rest of the clan are used enough to the sight of Tobirama now that business hardly slows as he walks by, even if people do still give him a wide berth. Hikaku leads him to a building on the very end of the main street, bundle of expensive cloth firmly secured in his arms.

They are greeted by the sight of a tiny waif of a woman pushing a taller, kunoichi with scar covered hands into the street. They're bickering, though it seems lighthearted, until the kunoichi -- ah, that's Ran -- looks up to see Tobirama approaching.

"You didn't tell me he was your client." She says, suddenly bone-stiff. The smaller woman -- Tsuki -- swats at the kunochi's hip, eyes narrowed.

"And why do you think that is? Don't cause any trouble."

" I'm not going to cause trouble." Here, in the safety of the compound, most shinobi don't use scent blockers. An acrid, almost acidic, scent rises in the air as the Ran's hands curl into fists. It's strong enough to make Hikaku want to wrinkle his nose, though it garners no reaction from Tobirama at all.

"No, you're not. And he's not either. And you know how I know?" Tsuki now properly jabs the kunoichi in the side, prompting her to glance at the smaller woman,  betrayed, "Because I'm a tailor. If the fighting is going to restart, it won't be over me."

"But--"

"No buts. Now get gone for at least a few hours or I'll rip the seams out of your battle coat."

With the way Ran blanches, that's not an idle threat.

"If something happens…"

"Then I'm sure you'll be the first to know." Tsuki says, bland, "Now go."

And Ran does go, though not without a scathing backwards glance at Tobirama and Hikaku both. Tsuki turns to greet them with a deep bow. Her expression does not warm.

"Apologies, Tobirama-sama. Hikaku-san. My sister worries too much."

"It is of no consequence" Tobirama bows shallowly in return, and Hikaku matches him, "Thank you for seeing us."

She turns and leads them into her workshop, watching them both with a carefully placid expression as they remove their sandals and Tobirama sets his veil to the side. Behind her, the room is controlled chaos. Bolts of fabric are folded on one bench and stretched out over another. Uchiha battle coats in all stages of assembly litter the room. Despite the assurances she made to her sister, Tsuki would not be the worst person to target if someone was looking to weaken the Uchiha; since her mother passed last year, she's now the only one in the compound who currently remembers the process of fireproofing and painting their armored coats in its entirety. 

The gaggle of apprentices that are learning after her are all conspicuously absent, today.

She gestures to the largest table in the center of the room, it's clear of projects, but there are spots in the grain that have been stained with indigo dye and Hikaku can't help but hesitate before laying out the clothes he's brought with him. It's not the most expensive thing he's ever held, but it's probably close, and though it's not a delicate garment he's still careful as he smooths out the layers.

The robes are thick brocade, the outer coat a black kosode, the phoenix pattern on it only subtly raised and lighter than the base fabric. The obi has golden thread woven through it, and one of the inner, red layers is embroidered with magatama so small that they can only be truly appreciated with a sharingan. It’s a beautiful garment fit for the head omega a noble clan; the last Lady Uchiha was known for her good taste. She was also smaller than Tobirama, by two heads, at least.

"Oh, I remember when Obaa-san made this," Tsuki says on a wistful sigh. "The obi is long enough to be used, and I can probably let out some fabric and get an outer robe out of this but the rest…" She clicks her tongue. "Well. Let me get your measurements first, then we'll see. Raise your arms."

Tobirama goes entirely, carefully, still for a moment before complying as Tsuki steps closer, measuring tape in hand. Red eyes flicker from her hands to the pins in her hair, and Hikaku is certain Tobirama stops breathing entirely as the tailor reaches out to wrap the ribbon around his chest. His thought process is obvious -- she could use any one of those as a tool to harm him. Though Tsuki has never been to a battlefield she knows how to defend herself, and she has at least enough chakra to use the grand fireball. As far as Tobirama is concerned, she's as dangerous as any blooded shinobi.

"You know." Tsuki says conversationally, sharingan flickering briefly on and off to record the measurement she's taken, before dropping the ribbon to Tobirama's waist. His hands clench, one of them half forming a sign, before he forces it to relax in the next moment. Hikaku finds his own body readying to move, though he thinks that if Tobirama does something it will not have been on purpose. Tsuki, he's less certain about. "I used to be married. We had two sons."

"…I'm sorry for your loss." Tobirama says, nothing in his voice betraying the tight hold he’s keeping on his body.

"My husband died when the dam they were defending suddenly burst. We always thought it was Senju interference." She carries on without waiting for comment, sharingan flickering on and off again before stepping around him to measure the width of his back. "The year the Senju convinced the Nara to stop trading with us, one of my sons died of sickness." The flicker of her sharingan. Now she measures wrist to wrist. "My other son was hurt so badly by a Senju patrol on his first mission that he hasn't been able to walk without aid since. Are you sorry?"

Tobirama likely did not do all of the things Tsuki has named, but his reputation is enough that he could have. Despite the pressure on the back of his neck -- Tsuki is measuring his height, now, from the top of his shoulders -- Tobirama responds immediately with, "I did what I was ordered, and what I believed necessary to secure the future of my clan at the time. But I am sorry that circumstances required me to do such things."

Tsuki does not react. She takes a step back and around to his front, and looks him over, then turns to a shelf and starts to open drawers and sort through bolts of fabric. Tobirama's arms slowly drift down before he drops them altogether.

"Does the red of the markings on your face stay consistent?"

"…It does."

Ran may have been right to worry for her sister's safety. Despite how obviously wound up Tobirama still is, Tsuki steps fearlessly back into his space and holds up a swatch of red silk next to his cheek.

"You could maybe get away with a paling purple, but, hmm… No, it ought to be grey." She mumbles to herself. Then, louder, "Let me put pins in for your under robe, and then you can go."

The process is no less nerve-wracking than the measurements, but Tobirama remains just as still as he did before as fabric is draped over him and sewing needles stuck as close to him as they can go without piercing skin. Tsuki's sharingan flickers on and off a few more times, but she doesn't seem to have anything else to add, and neither does Tobirama. Hikaku suspects trying to break the tension would hurt more than it would help, at this point.

She pulls the beginnings of the robe off of his shoulders in under ten minutes and sets it next to the one Hikaku had brought in.

"That's all I need." Tsuki bows. "And thank you, Tobirama-sama."

Hikaku blinks, and Tobirama flinches ever so slightly. She does not sound sarcastic.

Tsuki looks up and offers both of them a brittle smile.

"Please understand that thanks only lasts for as long as no one else dies. If the war starts over again, I'll come after you with these very needles."

Hikaku's eyebrows go up at her audacity, but Tobirama nods gravely, as though he hadn't expected anything less than a threat on his life.

"I'll do my best." He says. He bows, deeper than he had when they arrived.

"Oh, and Hikaku-san." She adds, before they can start making their way out, "Could you please remind Madara-sama to send his montsuki over for me to clean and repair? I know he got in a fight the last time he wore it."

"I will." Hikaku bows, the tension in his body giving way to a sort of exhausted amusement. "And… Thank you, Tsuki-san."

…For many things, it turns out.

"If you don't have a gift for me, I'm not even opening the door for you!" Izuna's voice comes from inside, before Hikaku can even raise his hand to knock.

He raps on the door anyway, and hefts the bottle he's brought along when it opens and Izuna appears in the crack, squinting meaningfully. He lights up at the sight -- it's umeshu, from the same brewer that Tajima used to buy from when he went into court; the cheaper stuff he drank himself, not the fancy gifts he presented the daimyo, and by extension, the kind he hid under the floorboards that Izuna and Madara got drunk on the first time they had tasted alcohol.

Madara got sick, Tajima forced him to train through it as punishment, and he's all but forbidden plum wine from the house ever since. Hikaku knows Izuna still has a fondness for the stuff -- he'd been planning to give it as a birthday gift, but he hadn't anticipated a need to apologize for all but supplanting Izuna from his previous life at the time, either. Nor did he think he'd be trying to learn about the man who was his rival and worst enemy for any reason other than having to fight him.

"…Good enough." Izuna sniffs. He steps back from the door, leaving Hikaku to find his own way in.

The house he'd ended up picking out was one of the smaller ones that rests along the edge of the compound's inner wall. They aren't usually permanent homes, favored only by those who don't have or don't want to stay with their immediate family. Hikaku winces, hiding it by turning his face to the ground as he removes his shoes. Izuna could have easily gone to live with his aunt or his cousins. He hadn't.

Izuna is leaning on a chabudai that looks like he somehow smuggled out of storage in the main house, cheek pillowed on one fist. He raises his eyebrows when he notices the scroll case Hikaku is carrying under one arm.

"What kind of horrible paperwork needs that much wine to bribe me into doing it?"

"I'll have you know that it's a housewarming gift." Hikaku replies, though he offers the bottle first, feeling less confident on how it will be received now that he's confirmed just how far removed Izuna is keeping himself from his brother. He can't actually avoid handing it over now that it's been brought up, and he keeps his attention to pouring them glasses as Izuna pulls open the case and unrolls the painting Hikaku made for him.

"…You don't have to keep it." Hikaku says quietly, knowing he'll recognize the view "I don't want to seem like I'm rubbing it in."

He risks a glance at Izuna, whose lips are pinched, but his shoulders droop drop a moment later. He reaches for a glass and taking a long savoring sip before he speaks.

"I might be mad if I thought you had a single mean spirited bone in your body" He gestures around the bare room "I probably will hang it up, just not… Here."

Not while he's busy trying to prove whatever point he's trying to make to Madara. Hikaku nods and lets himself feel relieved, knowing that it could have gone over much worse had Izuna been in a different mood. Izuna finishes the rest of his cup in a long draught, then idly turns the empty glass in his fingers as he considers Hikaku with a serious look on his face.

"I guess the Senju isn't making too much trouble if you have time to paint again." He says. He sets his cup down and Hikaku pours him more wine.

Hikaku resists the urge to point out that Tobirama is no longer a Senju. It would only lead to a pointless argument, and it would turn the topic away from what he's here to talk about anyways.

"He really hasn't been. He's very…Contained." He lets himself worry at the hem of his sleeve. "Hard to get a read on."

Even when he was supposedly at his most vulnerable. Tobirama had given up relatively little about himself during his heat, other than that he seemed not to enjoy it.

"Oh, no kidding? " Izuna snorts.

"I never doubted you on that." Hikaku raises his hands in mock defense. Anyone who could go toe to toe with a sharingan wielder whose name isn't Hashirama Senju has to be hard to read just to survive, "I just hadn't expected it to extend so far off the battlefield. He's been here nearly two months and I still have no idea about what he thinks about this whole situation."

Izuna hums a vague agreement.

"Well, I have a theory about that. Or, well… Otou-san did." He swirls his wine around, pauses to take another long sip. "He would joke about how we should keep tabs on Tobirama because it seemed like he followed orders so exactly that we could probably figure out what the whole clan's orders were just from watching him.

Thing is, though, I don't think it was that much of a joke. I mean it's not like that would have worked as an actual plan, but everything I've ever seen about him makes me think he's not the kind of guy to question orders."

Hikaku purses his lips as he considers. He'd bet that Tobirama does question orders, because he seems to question just about everything, but maybe he follows them anyways. If the Senju clan head ordered him not to cause trouble… 

"You think he's following orders to play nice?"

Or more likely, he's following orders to try and make peace if all the work he's put into the village his brother is trying for is any indication. Tobirama treating his marriage like a mission does make a certain amount of sense…

Izuna nods decisively, "Either his tree-brained brother ordered him to find some way to kill all of us, or he ordered him to try and be all peaceful and he's going to follow that order until he finally snaps."

There was a time that Hikaku might have been convinced by that argument, but after everything he's observed his gut tells him otherwise. His intuition isn't enough to form a proper argument, but Izuna must read something in his face, because he scowls.

"We killed his brothers. He's not going to forgive that."

Hikaku nods and looks away. He might not, but it's not as though revenge and forgiveness are the only options. "…He did say something the first day he was here about putting the desires of the clan over those of the self."

Izuna rolls his eyes, cheeks a little rosy, "Anyone can say words, Hikaku-kun."

"I guess I should just be glad you're giving him a chance to prove them then."

"Yeah, you should." Izuna sniffs, "Now shut up about Tobirama, I don't want to think about that bastard anymore."

If experience has taught Hikaku anything, Izuna will bring him up at least three more times before the evening is out, so he plays along.

"Sure, sure." He says, "I was meaning to ask you about the last time you went to court, anyways…"

The next morning, after Tobirama returns his dishes, he turns around to head right back to the main house instead of finding a place to stop and watch the clan as he usually does. His reasoning is as inscrutable as always and Hikaku is half-considering that, if Tobirama plans to read and research all day, to see if he can find time to slip away to a training field and find a sparring partner when Tobirama stops dead in his tracks.

There's a yelp, and Hikaku bounds forward to get a better vantage point to find --

Six year old Kagami on his backside, right where the small alley he was probably running through opens up into the street. He didn't touch Tobirama, and chances are that he fell trying to stop himself from doing so.

The young boy stares up at Tobirama with comically wide eyes before scrambling to his feet in a mess of limbs and bowing at the waist, exactly the way his mother must have taught him.

"Please forgive me, o-yurei-sama, this one wasn't paying attention to where he was going!"

Hikaku freezes, though he doesn't allow for any other tell. O-yurei-sama. Honorable ghost. Kagami has somehow gotten one of Tobirama's battlefield monikers confused for a proper form of address, and while a moment ago he hadn't been overly worried about Tobirama's reaction, now he holds his breath. He would be within his rights for wanting to punish the boy, honest as a mistake as it may have been.

The silence holds for a long moment, glass-fragile, and Kagami starts to fidget before Tobirama says, "…You may wish to save that title for your ancestors, little one. You may call me Tobirama."

"Oh." Kagami blinks owlishly. "Then, Sorry Tobirama-sama."

And that should be it, Tobirama should maybe give him a warning about being more careful and dismiss the child, but he does not. Instead, he crouches down to Kagami's level and moves the veil aside so they can see each other.

"I can tell that something about the idea troubles you."

Kagami needs no more provocation to start speaking as fast as his little tongue will allow.

"I just thought -- everyone calls you yurei or oni and I thought oni sounded mean, so I thought it'd be better to call you yurei, but you're Madara-sama's wife, so I had to make sure you sounded important. But I was wrong?"

"Mm." The corner of Tobirama's lip twitches up ever so faintly, and Hikaku silently lets out a breath, now bitingly curious to see how this goes. "Do you know why they call me those names?"

Kagami's brows scrunch together.

"…Because you're scary?"

Hikaku winces internally. The frankness of children is funny until it isn't, but Tobirama still shows no hint of annoyance. Instead of chastising the boy he says, "Something like that."

And then, patiently, he explains. How he earned those titles for his skills as a shinobi. How, until he came here, he used those skills against the people Kagami considers family. How, now that they aren't fighting anymore, it would be unwise to remind others of when they did. He speaks frankly and does not soften the truth of the situation as he patiently answers all of even the most seemingly unrelated of Kagami's questions. He is a very dangerous shinobi. He started training when he was about the age Kagami is now. He came here on his own, and last, most tellingly, though Hikaku already believes in his own conclusion at this point, he does not want to have to fight again.

Kagami seems to take his words very seriously, nodding along until Tobirama asks a question of his own.

"And is there a reason you were in such a hurry this morning?"

Kagami blinks once, then bursts out with, "Okaa-san asked me to get eggs!"

"Well, best not keep her waiting then." Tobirama stands again and watches, bemused, as Kagami bows a few more times and scurries away in another direction entirely. He glances at Hikaku very briefly before letting the veil fall back, but there's a subtle crinkle at the corner of his eyes, like he might be suppressing a smile.

Hikaku dutifully trails after Tobirama as he continues to make his way home, slightly boggled. He's been slowly readjusting his view of Tobirama for even longer than he's been here, but that small interaction was so far from his expectations that he doesn't know what to make of it.

It has also given him the beginnings of an idea.

He does get away for the rest of the morning to do his usual conditioning, and he even finds a sparring partner in the form of Ryuuji, who is technically Hikaku's senior by two days and likes to joke about how ' talented my precious kouhai is' as though Hikaku hasn't outranked him for over half of their lives. The fight goes as it usually does -- Hikaku lands the first blow, and shortly after the first match, but the second one drags for much longer than he usually allows. He does eventually get Ryuuji on the ground, and the omega yields, only to immediately roll to his feet with a laugh and proclaim, "That was a good one. I don't think I've made you sweat that much in a while, Hika-kun."

He's smiling wide as he says it, brushing dust off his clothes as he does, but it only takes a moment for the smile to dim around the edges.

"Well, I guess you've been pretty distracted recently. You wanna go again?"

If Hikaku were the kind of person who burned off stress that way, it would be a kind offer, but it only makes him shake his head "I probably should get back for lunch." He says, and hesitates for a bare moment. He would like to explain that he's not distracted for the reason Ryuuji probably assumes, that he's more concerned over finding a way to integrate Tobirama into the clan more than he is worried that he'll try to destroy it.

"Things haven't been so bad, really." Is the woefully inadequate explanation he comes up with, right as he turns to leave. "But thank you for the spar."

Ryuuji snorts, mirth returning. "Any time."

He waves Hikaku off, muttering to himself about overly formal juniors. Safely faced away from him, Hikaku rolls his eyes.

He takes his time walking back to the house, enjoying the cool spring breeze and new spring growth and the fact that no one's life is at risk if he spends a little time doing so. Lunch is already waiting by the time he returns, though Tobirama hasn't moved from whatever he's working on to pick it up from where it's been placed by the door.

Hikaku doesn't announce himself as he enters and takes off his sandals, and he half expects Tobirama to ignore him entirely, but when he steps into the room, red eyes flick up from a scroll of notes and follow him as  he makes is way across the room and sets two of the bento boxes on the table.

"I think I'll eat on the engawa today, if you'd like to join me." He says softly. Tobirama considers him for a long moment, and then he nods, moving to organize the chaos of books he'd accumulated over the morning. Hikaku slides open the shoji, turning over the wording for what he wants to say next as he settles to face the garden, where azalea bushes have started to bloom in brilliant red and white. Tobirama joins him only a moment later, leaving the door open behind him and sitting stiff and straight backed compared to the hunch he'd been in moment's prior.

They open their lunchboxes without another word passing between them. Recently, there have been mushrooms in every meal.

"I thought you did well with Kagami, today." He says when the quiet starts to stretch into awkwardness.

Tobirama casts him a sideways look.

"Kagami. The child from this morning?"

Oh. No he hadn't introduced himself, had he? Hikaku stifles a chuckle.

"Yes, that's the one. Do you have experience with children?"

"…Some." Tobirama admits after a beat, "I would look after and teach a few of them, on the rare occasion that I had the time."

His gaze grows distant, and his lips remain parted like he might add something more but he shakes it off after a moment. Behind them, cloth rustles, and when Hikaku glances back, he finds Madara securing his own lunch. He sits at the table inside and doesn't greet them, apparently content to eavesdrop on their conversation in peace, or maybe just unsure how to join it, since Tobirama is one of the participants.

Hikaku turns back to Tobirama and hums in contemplation.

"Well, it made me realize… I know we've decided it would be a bad idea for you to work with the kunoichi, but I think there's no harm in letting you teach children, especially if you already have experience with it."

Tobirama's answer is a thoughtful frown, and so Hikaku rushes to defend his reasoning, "Anyone worried about you sabotaging their education would only have to look at them to be proven wrong, and they have other teachers and their parents to make doubly certain. I think being seen doing it would only make things easier, in the long run."

Plus, while teaching children isn't demeaning work by any means, many active shinobi consider it as such. Some of the complaints allowing Tobirama to do so might cause will be silenced because of the belief that Tobirama is above such things, and is thus lowering himself to do so. And if Madara -- whose opinion is the only one that could really stop this -- disagreed, Hikaku is certain he would have spoken up by now.

Tobirama tilts his head in deliberation.

"It's a sensible idea. I'm not opposed to it. We can even lean on the fact that I'm an omega, which should do a lot of work in getting people to believe that I mean children no harm…"

Hikaku lowers the bite of food he'd been about to take. The way he'd phrased it…

"…Do you mean to say you don't have that instinct?" He tries for a light tone, trying not to offend. The nurturing instinct of omegas is a well known phenomenon after all, and while it's easy to forget that Tobirama is one, Hikaku had assumed that whatever surprise skill he has in dealing with children had stemmed, at least in part, from that.

Tobirama rolls his eyes.

"No, the fact that I don't want to hurt children has nothing to do with my gender, as a matter of fact. Nor does my willingness or ability to teach them." Tobirama's voice is flat and yet it still gives the distinct impression of sarcasm. He pauses. Sighs, and shakes his head, "In my experience, people will decide any action they find illogical as the result of some instinct. If for instance I was an alpha, we could say that training children to defend themselves helps satisfy some protective urge of mine. And yet the actions would be the same."

…What an incredibly utilitarian way of viewing things. Hikaku can’t even say that truly surprised by it, really.

"But the intentions behind actions are important." He argues, now setting down his chopsticks entirely. Tobirama only shrugs.

"Perhaps. But it's impossible to know someone's intentions from their gender alone, and instincts are not so straightforward as they are often assumed to be."

"But surely they can give a good framework for what can be expected?"

"Maybe for an average person. But I believe it's bad practice for any shinobi to rely on assumptions like that."

Hikaku puzzles at the thought. Logically, he thinks Tobirama is likely correct, at least when it comes to things done on missions. It seems like such a depressing way to view relationships, but then…  Maybe the ones he's forming right now are suspect to begin with.

"So if you say… Met someone for the first time, and you had some instinctual reaction towards them, and they towards you, you would ignore it?"

Tobirama's frown returns, this one edging closer to displeasure.

"The way someone reacts to their own instincts can be useful information, but in my opinion they have very little objective value on their own."

"…I suppose that seems wise." Hikaku agrees after a moment. He lets the conversation lapse there, knowing he has no personal experience with the subject to base any argument on. Tobirama turns his focus back to his food and Hikaku risks a another brief glance backwards.

Madara's dark eyes are fixed on Tobirama's back, still black, but nearly burning with intensity. He doesn't acknowledge Hikaku, but he wasn’t expecting him to anyways-- he's just given him a lot to think about, after all.

There are three children whose parents were willing to let Tobirama train them, and to be honest it's three more than Hikaku was expecting.

Well -- two. There's Kagami, whose mother stands on the edge of the packed dirt field looking about as frazzled as she normally does, and Kichi, who from the way he's shifting on his feet and darting glances at his new sensei honestly looks more like his father pushed him to come than the other way around. Or maybe the poor kid is nervous about the crowd that has gathered around to watch.

The third child is Haruko, and it's likely that the cousin in charge of taking care of her waved her off and told her to go to train without looking very deeply into who would be teaching. He's not here, anyways.

There's not much that can be done about it now. Madara gave his tacit approval over the arrangement when he walked with Tobirama to the field this morning. It's unlikely that a challenge would win now, unless Tobirama stumbles severely, and somehow Hikaku thinks this isn't going to be the place he does it.

Tobirama greets the children, sets his veil aside, and carries on as though he doesn't have an audience at all. Unlike many of the other onlookers, Hikaku doesn't bother to activate his sharingan in order to read Tobirama's lips. He'd been there as Tobirama planned how this first session would go and it should be all fairly standard -- for the first day, he only wants to get a baseline for their skills and then start them learning basic taijutsu and chakra exercises.

And it is perfectly normal, until Kichi completely misses a kunai throw and Kagami loudly proclaims on his behalf, "I know he can do better than that sensei, he's just nervous!"

If Hikaku strains his ears he can hear the answer, "Everything shinobi do, we do under pressure. Kichi-kun will need to learn to get over his nerves or adapt around them, as will the rest of you."

That’s kinder than any of Hikaku's teachers would have put it, and murmurs break out among the watchers as they share opinions, which only makes poor Kichi cringe harder. Tobirama ignores it and carries on, seeing if they know how to properly handle a shuriken and ninja wire.

Hikaku keeps half an eye on the lesson as he weaves his way through the crowd. It seems like Kagami has some question or comment or both after every exercise, and by the time Hikaku has sidled up next to his mother Renzu, the poor woman has half of her hair pulled out of her ponytail from how many times she's run her hands through it.

"Hikaku-san." She says without looking away from where her son is bouncing on his toes as he watches Tobirama correct one of his classmate's stances. "Do you think Tobirama-sama a patient man?"

"Yes." Hikaku finds he can say honestly, "Exceptionally so."

Renzu twists her fingers together, not looking at all reassured. Across the field, Kagami is insisting that he can already stick leaves to himself, so do they have to meditate? She sighs.

"I suppose we can only hope that it holds."

There's nothing Hikaku can think to say to further reassure her, so he only nods.

As the physical portion of testing gives way to the much more boring chakra control exercises most of the crowd starts to dissipate, losing interest when it's clear that Tobirama intends to stick to routine. The thinning crowd only makes those who remain stand out all the more -- Kagami's mother, Kichi's father, a smattering of active and ex-shinobi who are still holding onto their paranoia and watching Tobirama with sharp eyes. And Asahi.

The youngest observer still remaining has his jaw clenched and his arms crossed so tightly that he might well be leaving bruises. Hikaku excuses himself with a bow of his head and not-so-subtly creeps his way around the edge of the field.

"Asahi-kun." He greets. "Looking to train?" The boy's eyes don't move from where they're fixed on Tobirama, who's sitting cross-legged on the ground across from his students. For a long moment, it seems he's not going to respond at all, but then, hardly moving a muscle, he says, "I want to fight him."

Hikaku manages to keep his face from showing anything but polite intrest. Asahi has always been a fairly bright child, so he should know full well how hopeless a fight against Tobirama would be. Dark eyes glance at him from the corner for a moment, before focusing back on Tobirama and the children he's watching over with one eye. Something must still show anyways, or maybe his lack of reaction is too telling, because Asahi's lip curls in soundless snarl.

"I know I couldn't win, but it's like Madara-sama says. I need to do it to see his guts."

Hikaku hums non-committedly. He's glad that Asahi is willing to try even that much. But…

Hm. How to put this in a way that won't grievously offend the boy.

"The sort of understanding Madara-sama talks about… I think achieving it is a skill above both of our levels." Hikaku isn't sure he's ever left a fight feeling like he understood anything about his opponent as a person any better, except for maybe the things they might do when driven to desperation. Maybe it's just a natural result of Madara's overwhelming power, that he can sense such things. Plus, Tobirama is a notoriously tricky fighter even in pitched battle.

…Is that why Izuna's distrust of him is so absolute?

Asahi turns and scowls at him in earnest.

"Well if he's so trustworthy then he won't kill me, right?"

"Right." Hikaku doesn't allow himself to hesitate, no matter that he feels like he's just crossed over a canyon-wide line. He typically never takes such a defined stance out loud, but supporting his clan head's controversial wife has never been his job before, either.

There's a beat of silence between them as, across the field, Tobirama tells Kagami to stop squirming.

"You'll probably have plenty of time to observe." He continues, "I don't believe Tobirama-sama intends to agree to any spars for a while yet, and when he does, I know Izuna-sama wants to be the first."

Asahi's frown doesn't budge, he only grunts, as if confirming to himself that Hikaku has stretched the truth so far with that statement that it's practically transparent.

"…Or I can show you some other techniques, if you'd like."

Hikaku hopes the boy chooses to observe, because if he's thoughtful about it, he'll learn more from that than he could from any fight.

"…Maybe." Asahi hedges. Then he says, "Do you think Izuna-sama has time to show me anything?"

Well there's a combination of people Hikaku should try to keep from interacting, and a thought process that's so obvious it's painful. But he can't actually stop it from happening, and now that the thought is in Asahi's head, chances are he's going to go through with asking no matter what Hikaku says. He can't, in good conscience, discourage the boy from learning anything that will help him survive, no matter why he's done it.

"You could try." He says. What's one more thing to keep an eye on?

"…At which point you'll be expected to present your gift to the daimyo's head-wife" Hikaku pauses in his explanation when Tobirama snorts. It's soft -- a reaction, not an interruption -- but when Hikaku raises an eyebrow Tobirama shakes his head and explains.

"The head wife doesn't ordinarily deign to meet common shinobi clans. I'm not certain that I've ever seen her in person."

Hikaku huffs a humorless laugh.

"Oh, you still won't." He says, "She'll sit behind a screen the whole time and have retainers do everything for her."

Hikaku has seen her once, on the far side of a flower viewing, but it was clear she was trying not to acknowledge the existence of the trained killers in the garden.

He continues with his explanation, chin cushioned in one hand as he looks at the garden and it's azalea blooms, not where Tobirama is leaning over the table taking extensive notes in cramped shorthand. It feels odd not to look the man he's talking to in the eyes, but occasionally he needs to call up his sharingan to make certain he's getting his information accurate, and while he doubts that Tobirama would voice a complaint, it would still cause a tension that there's no use for at the moment.

This would all be made so much more simple if Hikaku could just show him a genjutsu-memory of the things he's trying to explain, but  Tobirama still has to obviously drag his eyes into meeting Hikaku's. He didn't even consider suggesting it.

"You and Madara will probably be invited to most events together on the first few days, but I expect you'll be getting many offers from the ladies of the court before too long. I think we'll have to play by ear whether I should go with you or not…" Since Tobirama didn't bring a Senju beta along with him, Hikaku is the only person besides Madara who can accompany him without question; but having him trailed by an Uchiha at all hours would likely send the wrong message… As would letting him handle himself completely on his own.

Tobirama goes still in the corner of his eye, red eyes darting up and meeting Hikaku's glance for a sliver of a moment before dropping back down to his notes. Unreadable, as usual.

"Actually, that reminds me. Are you familiar with e - awase?" Hikaku soldiers on. Tobirama looks up again, though this time he raises one eyebrow in way that Hikaku chooses to interpret as curious.

"The shell matching game? I know the rules, but I've never actually played myself."

Hikaku nods, "It'll be worth practicing a bit, you're likely to be challenged. Previous Uchiha ladies have all been champions in their own right." Because no one could beat the sharingan in such a game, and pride requires victory even without it. But Tobirama is fast in his own right -- if he knows what he’s doing, he won’t find it difficult to defend the title.

As he continues to speak, an idea slowly begins to form.

 “I have the poetry you’ll want to review, of course --” He takes a moment to dig out a few slim tomes from where they’ve been tucked beneath one of the many piles that scatter the room and set them in the center of the table, “But I can find a set to practice with as well.”

Tobirama nods, almost absentminded in the action. He probably thinks he’ll do it on his own, or that Hikaku will be the one to practice with him -- and he will, if he has to, but if can get Madara to agree then he might actually have an opportunity to make them spend more than the length of a meal in the same room together.

As if summoned by the thought of him, the door slides open and Madara’s calls, “I’m home.”

“Welcome home!” Hikaku answers. Tobirama’s voice joins his, this time, which is probably what prompts Madara’s long glance at him when he steps into the room. 

“We’re discussing the preparations we need to make before going to court, if you have any input.” Hikaku says, before the tension can grow too thick. 

“--Actually.” Tobirama cuts in when Madara doesn’t answer immediately, “I wanted to ask you about how I should wear my hair.”

“Your hair.” Madara says, flat. “...Why would I care about what you do with your hair?” He stares at Tobirama, who stares back, and it takes him entirely too long to realize that he’s spoken without thinking. When he does, his back stiffens like a riled up cat. “That is -- I mean, I’m sure your hair will look good whatever you do with it.”

Tobirama doesn’t react for a beat, then he sucks in a sharp breath and turns his face away. The corner of his lips twitch as if -- as if he’s trying very hard not to laugh in Madara’s face. Madara sees it too, and looks between Hikaku and Tobirama, not entirely sure how to respond; it's like wants to be offended on principle, even if he isn’t, actually. But amusement is probably the best reaction Tobirama could have to Madara putting his foot in his mouth, so Hikaku smiles at him, too.

“I see.” Tobirama finally answers without looking up, “Then I suppose I’ll wear it as I like.”

The tilt to his lips fades as he seems to contemplate something, and Hikaku can practically see him steel himself before he looks up at Madara again.

“I don’t mind if you are blunt with your words, Lord Husband. I find there is less room for miscommunication that way.”

Madara’s expression does a complicated twist at the title.

“...So you say.” He answers, “Just remember that you’re the one who asked for it.”

Then he turns and stalks off to his room, apparently having reached his limit for conversing with Tobirama for today.

Hikaku sighs. When Tobirama glances at him, he shakes his head and takes tiny, petty glee in being the one who doesn’t explain himself, this time.

And so the days pass. Tobirama teaches children in the morning, memorizes lines of poetry in the evening, and uses every spare bit of time between to write up plans upon plans -- for the alliance, for court, for the village. Hikaku allows himself to stop following at the omega's heels like some ironic ghost and spends some time with the clan.

They’re-- wary. Jumpy. Cautiously hopeful. They don’t see a need to get any closer to the Senju than they already have, but if they're ordered to do so, most of them are more likely to grit their teeth and try than start planning a rebellion, at least as things stand right now.

(But that's just popular opinion. Hikaku is under no illusions that if any one of a handful of people wanted that sentiment to change, all they would have to do is loudly say so.)

And Madara… Madara remains carefully polite, excepting that he stares directly at Tobirama the entire time they share any room together.

Even now, as Hikaku empties a box of wooden slips on the table, his attention remains entirely on Tobirama, who coolly ignores him in favor of examining the game pieces. One side of them has been carved with an inlay of leaves and sakura blossoms. The other side has, alternately, paintings and excerpts of poetry that are meant to match them.

Hikaku hadn’t been able to find a proper set of shells; instead he’d ended up borrowing these from Elder Kanae's attic in exchange for helping her clean out her chicken coop. Which will have been worth it, if only this works.

“Right. I’ll turn them over one by one, and when you see a pair that matches, move it to your side. No touching a slip that someone else has a hand on, or each other.”

Tobirama and Madara both nod, expressions far too serious for what is supposed to be a game. Which is just how Madara gets when it comes to competition of any kind, and it would be a surprise if Tobirama showed anything less, so Hikaku doesn't let that phase him. He turns over a full row of wooden slips before Tobirama's hand darts out to snatch the first pair -- the wind in the pine trees. Madara's eyes narrow, and two slips later he only just stops himself from breaking the rules and grabbing the painting for the safflower right out of Hikaku's hands.

In Hikaku's  limited experience, typically the whole board would be revealed before players would start guessing at the matches. Tobirama has clearly already memorized everything he needs to be moving this fast, and Madara would have only had to have glanced at an answer sheet with his sharingan active to do the same.

When Hikaku turns over the last slip, Tobirama grabs it and its pair so quickly it might well have disappeared from the table. He started frowning halfway through the game and it only grows deeper now that all the slips have been claimed and counted. Madara has ended up with one more matching set than Tobirama has.

Belatedly, it occurs to Hikaku that he has no idea what sort of loser Tobirama is on the battlefield or off. Will he pitch a fit like Izuna? Sulk like Madara? As he is right now, Hikaku would bet he’ll hide his usual reaction and quietly accept it -- but that’s not quite what happens either.

“You didn’t use your sharingan.” Tobirama observes, brows furrowed.

“...No.” Madara agrees.

“We should go again. Use it this time.”

Madara breaks his stare to share a glance with Hikaku, who shrugs and reaches out to start shuffling the slips.

“You already lost when I didn’t use it.” He presses after a moment. This fact doesn’t seem to bother Tobirama at all.

“Within a margin of error. But I expect anyone else who I play against will be using all the techniques at their disposal to win, and should train as such, shouldn’t I?”

Hikaku’s hand pauses for a moment where he’s laying out the slips. So not only does Tobirama probably not have hobbies, it’s entirely possible that -- politics aside -- he has also never played games for fun. He clears his throat.

“...Technically, there’s a ban on shinobi techniques in the capitol, so you won't have to go up against anything so obvious. And…” It feels like he shouldn’t have to explain, that Tobirama might think he's condescending to him, but maybe it was his mistake to introduce this game as something Tobirama’s reputation would be tied to. “Well, many of the other noble clans have no shinobi among them at all. Winning is important, but so is keeping a good relationship. And no one likes losing so badly it feels like they weren’t able to play at all.”

“Ah.” Tobirama seems to deflate, shoulders dropping, “So a game within a game then.”

“Yes.” HIkaku agrees as he sets down the final slip. “Or as we like to call them: politics.”

Tobirama’s lip curls, but he doesn’t otherwise respond. Across the table Madara snorts and leans to rest his chin in one hand. Already, he’s gone back to staring at Tobirama.

“We’re fucked, aren’t we.” Madara comments without any real emotion behind it, but Tobirama’s eyes narrow as he looks up to pin Madara with a short-lived glare.

“If you go with the expectation to fail, chances that you will are much higher.” Red eyes dart to the side, “...That said, there is a reason I didn’t plan to present any of the plans I’ve made myself.”

Madara sighs, and Hikaku would call it dramatic if that wasn’t how he always acts.

“And there’s a reason I’ve always leaned on my brother for such things, but we can’t exactly send him to court in our stead this time, now can we?” Then he reaches, puts a gloved hand on Hikaku’s shoulder, and squeezes. “We’re lucky we have you to rely on.”

Hikaku hopes that the way his blood drains out of his face at that statement isn’t too obvious. He hasn’t had the authority to so much as talk at court before now; the status that came with his position implies that he has the authority to speak on behalf of Madara and his mate, not that he’s now in charge of making sure they don’t ruin the clan with careless words. And he’d known that he’d be required to do more than most betas would, in his position, but only now has it occurred to him how dire his situation is. Tossed into court with only a few years of observation at his back -- no training, barely any backup, and one of the most complicated political situations the Land of Fire has seen in decades.

Forget heats and ruts and making sure his superiors don’t kill each other. This is what someone should have warned Hikaku about before accepting Madara’s offer.

(The warmth of his hand through the glove lingers even after Madara reclaims his hand to support his chin and Hikaku knows that even if he were warned, his answer would not have changed.)

"I'll do my best." Hikaku averts his eyes and prays that he's kept his voice even enough to avoid later questioning.

They play two more rounds, Tobirama still insistent that Madara uses his sharingan 'and whatever other advantages he may have.' Though his dojutsu should give Madara a massive advantage in a game like this, he only wins by three pairs the next round, and two the round after that. Despite winning, when Tobirama excuses himself 'to study', Madara is left with a deep crease between his brows. As usual, he stares after Tobirama even once he's gone.

Hikaku gives himself the time it takes to gather up the e-awase slips before asking, "Have you given any thought for how you two are going to present yourself at court?"

Madara grunts, but the question is enough to get him to pull his eyes away from the empty doorway.

"We're arranged, it's not like anyone is expecting us to walk around scent drunk off each other." Even as he says it, Madara's expression shutters further, lips twisting bitterly.

Whatever his personal feelings on the matter might be it's obvious how the distance between them will be spun if it's allowed to be seen -- an unstable marriage whose members can't even stand to touch each other will only make for an unstable alliance, after all.

"I'm sure Tobirama-sama understands the same implications that we do." Maybe. Tobirama's understanding of the world matching up with anyone else's becomes more suspect every day. "Do you want me to ask--?"

"No." Madara cuts him off, loud. He ducks his face into his mantle. "That would be -- ugh, no, I don't want to seem…"

He trails off. Hikaku isn't sure if he was going to finish that statement with desperate or pushy.

Hikaku waits a moment, then another, but there seems to be no more complaints forthcoming.

"…It does need to be discussed."

"Oh I've tried." Madara's agitated acrid-ash scent starts to rise. "I'm sure he'd go along with anything I asked him to, since I'm his honorable lord husband. I just don't want obligation to be the only reason he's willing to come near me."

Hikaku still hasn't come up with a better answer to that problem than time, and they're quickly running short on it. Before he can find some platitude to offer, Madara grunts. "He hasn't approached me once since coming here, you know. Aren't omegas supposed to need scent and a body to stay stable?"

Aha. Well, he'd had that during his heat, at least. Hikaku can feel heat prickle up his neck just from the memory.

"I'm sure it varies from person to person." Hikaku makes himself answer, because it's true, and Tobirama has already proven himself an outlier. "But it's still worth bringing up. Before we're in front of the Daimyo. And even if something only happens between you because of political necessity, that doesn't mean it can't turn into something more from there." Like a conversation maybe, since it sounds like Madara's last attempt wasn't much of one. And if it doesn't, Hikaku will have to stop hinting and start outright dragging the two of them along.

 Hikaku looks evenly into the doubtful look Madara levels him, until the alpha relents with an unhappy noise.

"Right." He agrees. "Of course."

Hikaku throws himself into studying with the same fervor that Tobirama has -- not that there are many resources for him to work with. The main house has only taken on a scattering of betas to balance their pairings over the years, and none of them have ever been in quite his position. They were always someone who already would have had a roll to fill at court, someone who would have connections, and it's not as though Hikaku doesn't, just… Not with anyone important enough for him to rely on while he finds his footing.

Even just thinking about it is exhausting. With any luck, those interested in being on the side of the Senju-Uchiha alliance will approach him, but he can't depend on that.  He needs to find a guest list, and probably the most up to date dossiers their spy network has on them, too. Even a basic idea of who to look out for would be settling to his nerves. He's making due with a refresher on tea ceremonies, right now.

Hikaku startles and sits up straight at the flare of chakra that is Izuna announcing his presence outside. It's enough to make Tobirama, sitting across from him, glance up from his work. He shares a glance with Hikaku that's easy enough to interpret, for once: he knows that I'm here, right?

It's Izuna, so of course he does. Hikaku does his best to quickly straighten the room and his own robes before going to the door -- Tobirama watches him as if he's not sure if he wants to go through the effort of doing the same.

Madara has crept out of his office to linger in the hallway as Hikaku passes by. With no demand from him to do otherwise, Hikaku walks past him to greet their guests.

"Izuna-sama." He bows, "Tsuki-san. It's a pleasure to see you. Please, come in."

Hikaku can't imagine that Izuna has decided to help the tailor bring her work here out of the kindness of his heart, but he's not about to turn either of them away. The garment is wrapped in a stiff waxy cloth, and the two of them carefully hold it between them so that none of it drags the ground.

"Hikaku-san." Tsuki bows, "Madara-sama. Tobirama-sama."

"Hikaku." Izuna echoes drolly, "Brother. Brother-in-law."

Tobirama smoothly rises to his feet to meet him and bows back, all expression wiped clean from his face.

"Tsuki-san. Brother-in-law. I can retrieve a kimono rack if you'll give me a moment."

When no one immediately speaks up, he turns to leave the room only just slowly enough that it can't be called running.

Izuna snorts, which Hikaku chooses to ignore.

"Hojicha?" He offers.

"Please."

He's thankful to have something to do, because after Tsuki directs Izuna to set down the kimono on the table, Madara finally decides to make himself known.

"Izuna." He greets, "…It's been a minute."

"It has."

That's all Izuna says. There are no jabs about Tobirama's presence, nor is there any attempt at polite conversation. Izuna might disagree with Madara in private but he's always been exceptionally good at keeping up a front of unity in front of the rest of the clan, which Tsuki counts as and so makes his behavior especially strange.

"You've -- been well?" Madara tries, when it's clear that Izuna isn't going to.

"Well enough." Izuna responds, clipped.

Impossibly, Tobirama's arrival actually breaks the building tension. The sound of the display stand being placed makes Izuna break eye contact with his brother so he can turn and look.

"I'd like to make some final adjustments before you hang it up." Tsuki says, right about when Hikaku comes in with the tea tray. Her eyes meet his for only the briefst of moment, but she seems wary. She steps forward, past Izuna, to pull away the cloth cover and reveal what she's been working on.

As it's laid out, with the innermost layer on top, it's impossible to tell how it's going to look, but the nagajuban is printed with dark grey uchiwa on darker grey silk, and is probably as expensive as Hikaku's entire set of formal clothes on its own.

"Just this layer, for now." Tsuki tells Tobirama as he takes it and moves to retreat again, "Hikaku-san will need instruction on helping you put the rest on correctly."

"…Sit?" Hikaku offers, before Madara and Izuna can re-enter their standoff. Tsuki joins them at the chabudai, and Izuna puts both Hikaku's body and hers in between himself and his brother. When Hikaku sets out the cups and pours, he glances up at each one of them in turn -- Izuna looks distracted and disgruntled, head ducked down into his cup, while Madara's eyes, when they meet his, are wide with alarm.

So he finds this unusual, too. Nothing has gone wrong, and Izuna has voiced no objection to anything recently; he should be less tense, not more. But he's sitting across from Madara, frowning and holding his other hand beneath the table like it will hide the way he's clenching it in his lap.

"Well, it's nice to have you visit." Hikaku says, before the silence can draw on too long, "Both of you. I hope getting here with everything intact wasn't too much trouble."

It's pointless conversation. Light and inane, and the sort of thing that Izuna has long mastered hiding behind no matter what his true feelings are. Even still, he takes so long to respond that Tsuki steps in instead.

"Oh, no, not with Izuna-sama's help."

"Oh, please, it's not your fault you had to make clothes for a giant." Izuna immediately looks like he regrets the words that have come out of his mouth, and tries to soften them with a huff, and "It certainly gave you a lot of room to work with, anyways. You should see the embroidery."

"I suppose we will in a moment." Hikaku says with a twitch of a smile. Thankfully, he's not forced to keep up conversation for very long, because, efficient even in dressing himself, Tobirama steps back into the room.

The nagajuban fits perfectly, as expected, and it has a higher collar than an under-robe usually would. The cloth has been cut just so, and one of the uchiwa in the pattern sits right above Tobirama's throat. Madara, Hikaku can't help but note, has gone very still at Tobirama's entrance.

Tsuki nods approvingly and gestures for Hikaku to join her as she stands.

"These," She says, picking up the next robe on the pile and pushing into his hands, "Are straightforward enough, but remember to leave a centimeter of the collar showing behind the next layer."

What she hands him, and what Hikaku pulls over Tobirama's shoulders -- though not without the omega's eyes darting over to where Izuna is still sitting-- is a robe in cream white. Then one in red silk -- salvaged from the previous outfit, it looks like, because the visible part of the collar is embodied with tiny magatama like the last one had been. Then another in dark grey. Thicker fabric, this time, and with a tatewaku pattern interspersed with flowers, still all dark and subtle, but with tiny splashes of red and white.

Finally comes the outermost layer, which is clearly where Tsuki and her apprentices spent the most time. It, too, is dark grey, but the back panels are taken up with a phoenix and dragon in red and gold, weaving between each other and the wind and waves.

"Izuna, are you feeling alright?" Madara asks as they work, voice low.

"I'm fine." Izuna snaps.

He really should know better, but Madara, has never mastered the art of conversation, and never tried to. Izuna won't answer him here, and now this fitting session has suddenly become more tense than the first one, when there were needles involved.

"Now this is the hard part." Tsuki continues on as she hefts the long obi in her hands. Her voice is toneless but her expression is tight around the eyes. Hikaku spares a brief thought for the fact that he might have to bribe her to keep her from spreading rumors as he activates his sharingan so she can show him all the ways he might have to tie it, and the obiage and obijime, depending on how formally Tobirama needs to be dressed.

When all is done and Hikaku steps back, his first reaction to seeing Tobirama wearing all of it is, stupidly "Never, ever, get in a fight in this." Followed immediately by an embarrassed cough and, "It's lovely work, Tsuki-san. Truly."

She gives him a smile that might have been a laugh in another circumstance, but it goes stiff as Izuna stands up from his tea -- only half finished -- and steps closer to examine it himself. Madara is right behind him, and though he doesn't lean in to get a look like Izuna does, he does flash his sharingan to capture the moment when Tobirama tilts his head to look back at them.

"Who would have thought? It took an Uchiha to do it, but you actually look presentable." Izuna leans forward with a coy smile, fingers reaching out to tug on the end of Tobirama's obi cord.

"Izuna--" Madara reaches out to grab his brother's shoulder -- he probably wants to stop the two of them from getting into a fight more than anyone -- but his movements are too sudden, or maybe his tone of voice is too sharp, because when Madara touches him, Izuna whirls on him and growls.

The whole room seems to freeze for a moment. Then Izuna rears back, like he's surprised at his own reaction. His eyes are wide, but the sharingan immediately fades from them as soon as it becomes clear that Madara hadn't been trying to attack him, or even truly pull him away.

Hikaku's never heard him make a sound like that, and from the look on his face, Madara hasn't either.

Izuna takes a step back.

"I-- see that everything is in order." He hesitates, then dips at the waist in a hasty bow, "I'll be taking my leave now."

He takes another step backwards, then he spins on his heel, ignoring Madara's call of "Izuna!" as he flees. Hikaku only just catches Madara by the arm before he takes off after him.

"He's just going to run from you right now. Let me try talking to him" Hikaku keeps his voice low, though they're all standing close enough to each other that Tobirama and Tsuki can hear him, and so he turns to Tobirama and adds, "He's not usually so… Aggressive."

Tobirama eyebrows twitch up -- he does not seem convinced. And why would he be, when he's still never known Izuna as anything else? Arguing with him will be useless after seeing that so Hikaku doesn't waste the time trying and turns to follow Izuna instead.

He hasn't gone far, surprisingly. Hasn't even retrieved his sandals. He just stands barefoot on the engawa, facing out into the ragged outer garden and gripping a post so tightly that his fingers are all pale.

He doesn't look up when Hikaku moves to stand beside him. Hikaku stays quiet and lets him think -- he won't do Izuna the indignity of asking if he's okay, when he's so clearly not.

"…I thought I was ready." He says after a long moment. "I thought the longer I avoided them the harder it would be to stop. But I just couldn't stand being in there with him."

"Tobirama?"

"Madara."

That's certainly how it had seemed, but Hikaku still finds himself feeling surprised, regardless. He sucks in a breath.

"You weren't expecting to still be angry with him?"

Izuna rocks back on his heels, tilts his head up to stare at the roof. His whole face is flushed red.

"I'm not though. Or I have no reason to be. But when I sat there with him, I felt…" He makes a helpless noise in the back of his throat, and when he turns to look at Hikaku his face is screwed up like he's about to be sick, "He's my brother, Hikaku. Why should I feel threatened by him?"

"A lot has changed." Hikaku reminds him softly, "Maybe there's parts of it you still need to get used to."

Izuna huffs, disgusted.

"I shouldn't need to get used to it. I'm not a child."

After all, alphas and omegas grow into their instincts; betas are supposed to grow out of them. But the way Izuna acted, the way he says he's feeling -- the cause could hardly be anything else.

"Whatever. I'll figure it out. I've got plenty of time, right?"

Then Izuna shakes his head and turns away, stalking off entirely before Hikaku can think of anything helpful to say.

Because he'll be left in charge of running the clan while they're at court, and they're leaving for that in only a few weeks now.

Hikaku doesn't know if the distance will help or hurt.

It goes to show how well Madara and Hashirama can read each other when Hashirama only needs the barest of glances at the other clan head before deciding that he won't be mauled for getting near his mate without warning.

…Not by Madara, anyways. The look on Tobirama's face as his brother scoops him off the ground in a bone-crushing hug is so dire that it seems he would like to.

"I know, I know." The Senju clan head says before Tobirama can admonish him, "I'm just so happy to see you!  I know you'd never tell me if anything was going wrong in a letter so I had to see with my own eyes to make sure."

He doesn't let go of his brother even as Tobirama slumps in his hold in what might be one of the most undignified moves Hikaku has seen him make yet.

"You've gotten my letters though, haven't you?" Madara grunts. He's watching the two of them, stone-faced, and Hikaku wonders if his clan head is thinking the same thing that he is -- that maybe the fact that Tobirama is allowing himself to be handled like this at all is a certain sort of telling. "Half of the plans we've been talking about have come from his head."

"Yeah, but that doesn't tell me if he's settling in okay, or getting enough sleep, or eating right…" When Hashirama lets go of his brother's waist to pinch at his sides, Tobirama slaps his hands away, taking a step back and closer to Madara. The two of them are wearing near-identical looks of narrow eyed disdain, and Hashirama laughs and retreats back himself, hand up. Apparently he’s smart enough to not go digging his own grave any deeper after all.

"Not to imply that you're not taking care of him!" He laughs. "I just know how Tobirama can get when he's focused."

"I've been well looked after, anija. But that's not what you should be worried about right now."

"But he's your brother; he will, regardless." Hashirama's wife -- Mito, former Uzumaki princess, if Hikaku is remembering right -- cuts in. She does risk taking that extra step closer to Madara in order to take Tobirama's elbow and pull them together in a short lived hug. Tobirama seems much more tolerant of this one, lips quirking up at the corner as they exchange quiet greetings. Madara allows this too, though he glares at her. Sometimes Hikaku wonders if he even realizes what his face looks like.

"Well he doesn't need to." Madara cuts in, thick with sarcasm, "Tobirama is fine. We need to focus on the bigger picture right now."

"Like making sure we're all on the same page with the specifics of this village." Tobirama agrees, casting  a pointed glance at the scrolls that he’d set out on the table earlier. Neither Tobirama nor Madara make any formal invitation to have Hashirama join them as they turn away and find their cushions, and Hashirama doesn't appear to want or need one, but Hikaku bows and gestures for him to take a seat, anyways. Mito does not do something as obvious as nod at him, but she does bravely meet his eyes for a moment as she finds her spot.  Hikaku would like to imagine she looks sympathetic.

It's far closer to a planning meeting than anything formal. Madara can only do so much without the approval of the clan elders and the guard commanders, and as far as Hikaku knows the same is true for Hashirama and the Senju. Any village building they might do today is still as theoretical as it always has been --  the main purpose of inviting the Senju here to make sure they don't go saying things at odds with each other once they're at court.

Hikaku suspects that both clan heads are hoping to go home with orders that they build a village to help with the hard work of convincing their clansmen to agree to it, but there are sure to be factions of all kinds trying to search for cracks in the peace that they've made -- possibly the daimyo most of all. And so, to help sell the idea of their unity, the Senju clan head has come to visit the Uchiha at the small manor house that they hold just outside the city proper.

When Hikaku brings tea, he notes with bemusement that Hashirama is much faster to move to drink it than anyone else in the room. He sets down the tray and moves to stand in his usual position on the back wall.

"--may have to make concessions to what is politically convenient, for now." Tobirama is saying, "It's to be expected that the daimyo will want to take direct control over as much of the process as he can, and will use any differences of opinion we have to do so."

"It's possible to use even that to our own advantage." Mito cuts in smoothly as she reaches out to unroll one of the many scrolls she's brought along. "If, say for example, we make it seem as though we cannot agree on a building location, he may offer one to us himself."

But it will come at a cost. Hikaku thinks. And there's just as much of a chance that he'll instead force us to make even more concessions for his help -- if he doesn't outright abandon the idea altogether. He shifts in his spot, fingers twitching where he holds them behind his back. He technically has the authority to speak now, and maybe he even should. He might as well start while the stakes are comparatively low.

"…If I may." He steps forward and gives a self-conscious half-bow as the eyes in the room swivel to him, "I believe it might be better to save that sort of planning until after we've scouted out how much he's willing to allow us in the first place. He should be just as wary of appearing to overstep as he is of us doing so."

"I agree." Tobirama says immediately, "We should go in with a united front to begin with. If he seems eager to push forward, then we can adjust."

"Not unwise." Mito agrees, "But that does mean we'll have to make more opportunities to discuss with each other as court goes on."

"Is that so strange?" Hashirama asks, "We're allies now, after all."

Madara snorts, "Allies that everyone is already terrified of. Secret meetings won't have anyone thinking we're planning to take over the country any less."

It's as if the whole room collectively hides a wince. No one had wanted to outright say it, so of course Madara would.

"If we make it clear that the planning is to be done in the open, and allow other interested parties to have input, it should mitigate the worst of it. " Hikaku says, still awkwardly standing out of place.

It's only when Tobirama shares a long glance with Madara that he seems to realize, and he turns to hide his face in his hair when he says, "Ah -- Hikaku, you should join us."

There's not a cushion set out for him, but Madara shifts to one side and Tobirama to the other so that there's a space for him between them. Mito watches this with a carefully neutral expression, while her husband's face looks to be frozen in a smile. Hikaku bows to them again as he kneels.

"Doing so will open up our plan to criticism from all sides." Mito continues smoothly, as though the interruption never happened. "And I'm not certain what we have can take that level of scrutiny right now."

"…If it can't take scrutiny, it's not a very good plan." Madara mumbles.

There's a long moment of silence between the five of them, The guards on the walls all remain professionally impassive. Then Tobirama breaks the moment by tapping a finger on the table.

"If it functions as it should, the village should provide enough benefits to make it worth living there on its own. But as a new concept, and seeing as it requires submitting their clan to the village leadership, others will be hesitant to join. Perhaps if we offer those who join in this early stage the ability to decide who will lead them, we could both encourage others to consider joining as well as avoid the daimyo assigning his own man to manage us.”

"Ah, but I wanted..." Hashirama trails off with a sigh, resting his cheek in one hand only for Mito to immediately swat his hip with her fan so that he startles and sits up straight, face contrite. It's almost as if she's training him to remember how he should behave. Funny, how it's safer for him to break decorum here, surrounded by Uchiha, than it will be in court tomorrow.

Hikaku eyes where Madara is still sitting half-hidden in his own hair. Maybe he should be taking notes.

"Then again, getting more clans involved may make proving our loyalty even more difficult." Hikaku says, mostly to himself. Mito flashes him a brief, sharp smile.

"It will. But I'm certain we'll have many opportunities." Her tone is perfectly polite, hands folded in her lap as if they had always been there, and yet Hikaku can still hear the warning in her voice -- and we can make those opportunities, if need be.

At this point, Hikaku can only hope that he's given some warning in advance.

It's probably too much to hope for that there aren't already rumors circulating about how Madara and Tobirama don't bathe together. There certainly will be now.

The tub in the manor is nearly three times the size of the one in the main house back home. It’s more suitable for communal bathing than its current use, which right now is having Madara soak in it alone. At least between the chakra natures and strengths of the people involved, filling it with water and heating it was relatively painless.

Well, if he gets asked, Hikaku can point to the extra time Tobirama needs to get dressed today as a reason. The extra time he'll need the entire time they're at court; especially if -- Hikaku scowls at his own hands -- he keeps messing up the obi knot like this.

That's not quite right -- the knots he's tied have been perfect, but twice now he's left too much slack in the rest of the fabric  in deference to the fact that this time Tobirama is hiding knives behind the folds, enough that the obi was able to slip out of place. Up until now Tobirama has silently endured, but now he turns his head so red eyes can catch his.

"I don't have the blades pointed at myself." He guesses correctly. There’s a note to his voice that Hikaku wants to say is amusement, but he isn’t actually sure. "You can secure it properly."

Hikaku ducks his head and does as he's asked.

By the time he has everything fitting as it should Madara has finished bathing. He wanders into the room, halfway dressed in hakama and a kimono shirt, but his hair is still damp and wrapped in a towel.

Hikaku has done this before; on the rare occasion he would be out on a mission with Madara and there was a sudden need to look presentable. He knows that if he doesn't press the issue, Madara will be more than willing to go to court ungroomed.

"Keep the towel on your shoulders." He says as Madara moves to let his hair down, "Izuna would never forgive me if I let you go to court looking like a wild man, and Tsuki-san will have my hide if you soak through your haori."

Madara rolls his eyes, but he obligingly finds a spot to sit as Hikaku retrieves a comb and starts the hopeless process of neatening his hair. They both remain silent, both probably trying not to think too deeply on how Izuna is normally the one who forces this on his brother -- how he hasn't in a while, how he would likely refuse to at all, right now.

Tobirama watches them for a long minute before suddenly turning away and disappearing behind the folding screen. Madara turns his head to watch, but he hisses through his teeth as Hikaku tugs him back into place. There's no point in trying to force Madara's hair into anything more complicated than a topknot, and even that will probably need to be redone after a few hours. But appearances are important here more than anywhere else, and so the attempt has to be made.

The result is… Passable. For now. For as long as Madara doesn't reach up and tear apart his hard work; Hikaku snatches his wrist when Madara reaches up to try.

"Give yourself some time to get used to it, you'll hardly even realize it's there after a bit."

"Speak for yourself." Madara grumbles, but he obligingly crosses his arms so he's not tempted to mess with it any further.

Hopeless. Hikaku sighs and reaches back to make sure his own hair is well secured. As he works, Madara glances again at the screen Tobirama sits behind, clearly paying no attention to the art of Amaterasu-omikami coming out of her cave that's painted on the wood.

"I don't suppose either of you know how much rouge is acceptable for a married omega to wear these days, do you?" Tobirama appears again, and Madara sits up straight at the site of him. He hasn't done much to himself, only lined his eyes with black, and the outer edges with a stroke of red, but it's very striking on a man as pale as him.

The silence lasts too long before Madara says"…Looks like enough to me."

"If it's going to be a problem, best speak now." Tobirama folds his hands into his sleeves, movements awkwardly stiff.

Madara shakes his head, immediately pulling strands out of his topknot to fly away around his face.

"It’s not, I’m just surprised you already know how to wear it.."

The omega shrugs -- his expression doesn't change, but it seems a little less frozen in place, now.

"I learned what I'm sure every omega does when I presented."

"I see. Well...It's fine."

Hikaku resists the urge to reach over and pinch Madara like he's a misbehaving child. If he wants to get close to his mate, surely he can come up with a better compliment than that? But Tobirama nods and seems to accept the remark just fine. Perhaps it's the same situation he ran into with his hair. If his husband says that it's fine, they can argue with him.

"At any rate -- " Madara continues before the lull in conversation can drag on.  "If you're ready, there's still one more thing we need to do in preparation. As we discussed."

Tobirama bows his head in ascent, which makes the muscles in Madara's jaw tic. Whatever conversation they'd had about this little necessity it's more than obvious that it didn't go the way Madara wanted it to.

Tobirama doesn't reveal a hint of apprehension as Madara rises to his feet and steps closer. He even tilts his head to the side -- it's not clear whether he means it in invitation or curiosity -- which has Madara pausing before he breathes in and leans forward.

Now that he's dedicated to scenting Tobirama, he's not shy about it. Madara rubs their cheeks together before turning to bury his face in the crook of Tobirama's neck where his scent is strongest. One of his arms comes up, looping around Tobirama's waist like he intends to hold him there, though the omega has shown no obvious signs of wanting to back away.

Hikaku finds himself blushing furiously, but he forces himself to watch. This sort of thing is private, but he is, formally, a part of this pack. It's not wrong for him to see this, and watching their body language right now, when they're the physically closest Hikaku has ever seen them, is important.

Tobirama doesn't close his eyes and it's almost enough to make Hikaku relent and turn away, heart jumping into his throat like he's a child who's seen something he shouldn't have. But they're not focused on him -- they're cast down, lost in thought and now- familiar consideration.

It takes him a moment to reciprocate, but Tobirama nuzzles his own face into Madara's hair almost experimentally. When he raises one of his arms and settles it around Madara's waist, his movements are halting, almost like he's expecting to be stopped. Madara makes a sound in response, but it's approving, not a reprimand.

By all rights, this scenting session should be as perfunctory as possible; just enough for each of them to get their scent onto the other. But Madara lingers -- nosing across Tobirama's neck to rub his scent in on the other side of his face as well, and all through it Tobirama carries an expression that reads far more of curiosity than it does of discomfort.

Perhaps satisfied, perhaps realizing that Tobirama is unlikely to do so first, Madara pulls away with a long exhale, dropping his arm and stepping back; Tobirama mirrors him. There's something noticeably more relaxed to his clan head's shoulders, and the line of his mouth isn't so taught when Madara says, "That should do it for now."

Tobirama nods, but when Madara turns to start hiding away his own weapons, the omega shoots Hikaku a sidelong glance.

"Is there a reason we aren't marking Hikaku-san as well?"

Hikaku freezes, mind blanking as he's mentioned.

"Ah. Well it isn't necessary, is it?" He responds carefully. Up till now that hasn't even been mentioned. Tobirama tilts his head in question, so Hikaku continues.  "Since I'm a beta?"

"Yes? Do you not scent betas?" Tobirama is frowning now.

Madara shares a glance with him, seeming as surprised at the line of questioning as Hikaku feels. Some packs do, but it would look childish for Hikaku to ask for it at his age, and it's inconvenient to have to wash the scent off of himself before he goes to battle or out on a mission.

"He hasn't asked." Madara says slowly.

"Hasn't asked…?" Tobirama cuts himself off with a shake of his head and changes tack, "In any case, I think our position would appear that much stronger if he was carrying our scents as well. If you are willing, Hikaku-san."

The logic makes sense, and he is; but before Hikaku can agree to it Madara is bristling in offense.

"Yes asked. Just because I'm an alpha doesn't mean I'm going to go around forcing myself on everyone in my household. I have some fucking manners."

Tobirama blinks, then scowls. Hikaku jumps to his feet to wedge himself between them before one of them does something that might ruin their formal clothes.

"If I could ask -- Tobirama-sama, how are such matters handled among the Senju?"

Tobirama pulls back from where he had started to lean forward into Madara’s space. He takes a measured breath, expression returning to its cool mask.

"I was raised with the rule that the highest ranking alpha would decide when it was acceptable to scent and be scented."

That’s... Backwards. But it does explain some things. The alpha in question must refer to Butsuma Senju if Tobirama is talking about how he was raised, but does that extend to Hashirama as well? Hikaku doesn’t know his designation, but Madara might, and he’s sure to ask all about it the next time they see each other if the way his eyes have gone wide are any indication.

"It seems --" Hikaku cuts in, before Madara can work himself into an upset over that, too, "-- that we've had something of a miscommunication. In our clan, omegas are typically the ones expected to initiate."

It's not as though it's the sort of thing done in public, so even with all of his investigation it's not as though Tobirama would have known. But the fact that he's missed it makes his frown re-appear regardless.

"And betas?" Tobirama asks "I haven't scented anyone on you since I arrived here, and it's been months."

At that, Hikaku only offers a shrug. By his estimation it's actually been years.

"I'm sure some do ask. But I don't need it, so it's not my place to demand such things."

Madara shoots him a sharp glance at that, and Tobirama frowns deepens to look downright disapproving. Feeling as though he's about to be reprimanded, Hikaku quickly adds, "But I'm not opposed to it in general, and I agree that it's a good idea for me to go into court wearing your scents, so, ah --"

Madara immediately crowds in close, before Hikaku even finishes speaking.

"Good." He says, eyes dark.

Hikaku makes what is probably a pathetic whimper of surprise as Madara loops an arm around his shoulders and reels him close enough to rub their cheeks together.

His instincts shouldn’t do much, if anything -- Hikaku knows he's grown out of needing to be scented like this; the only thought he's spared to it in a long time have been stray fantasies not unlike this one. And yet as Madara's smoky scent --now with a hint of salt clinging behind it-- settles over him, it's like some muscle he wasn't aware he had even been using unclenches all at once.

The last person who scented him must have been his mother, but he isn’t certain when that was -- it slowly petered off over time, as he grew and took missions and needed it less. But that last person he remembers scenting him was Madara -- thirteen years old, newly presented as an alpha, and still dealing with the urge to want to claim everything he liked as his. Hikaku has thought about that day often -- laid out in the spring sun, teasing Madara until he realized what it was he wanted, asking the older boy if he wanted to mark him and managing not to look too embarrassed about it -- shamefully often. They'd never repeated that moment since. To do it now --

It's like relief, but it's too much of it all at once. Madara does the same thing he did to Tobirama and butts his head under Hikaku's chin to make sure he's well and truly covered with his scent and Hikaku finds he can hardly keep his feet under him. It's not unlike how he felt the last time he fought a poison user -- dizzy and lightheaded, his thoughts distant and quiet in a way that's almost a little pleasant.

Thankfully he's present of mind enough not to grab at Madara and keep him there like he very much wants to when the man pulls away.

"Oh." He croaks instead, "I…Hm. I think I needed that?"

He's not supposed to, didn't think he did, but apparently he needed something -- he can't remember the last time he actually felt as relaxed as this. He didn't mean to speak out loud either, and covers his mouth in surprise at himself.

Madara's expression has quickly gone from assessing to confusion to concern.

"Are you scent drunk?" Madara is loud and incredulous, enough that Hikaku twitches. A big enough reaction from him that it makes Madara pull even further away, grimacing in the way that counts as apologetic from him.

Tobirama leans in and actually makes a point of catching Hikaku's eye, though it seems to be for diagnosing him more than anything else.

"If you liken it to being actually drunk, then I suspect Hikaku-san's tolerance is quite low." He says. "Do you think you could manage mine as well? We do need you to be able to function."

Hikaku is glad that he's covering his mouth, because otherwise he might have blurted out his first thought, which was, roughly 'I want to roll around in both of your scents until I'm covered in them.'

He manages to get his tongue to cooperate long enough to say. "The point was for it to be both of you, wasn’t it? I don't think It's going to get any worse, so -- go ahead."

Tobirama doesn't look convinced and he glances over at Madara as if to gauge his thoughts, only Madara is staring at Hikaku, focused and intent like the way he often looks at Tobirama. Now that he's noticed, the realization does not make HIkaku’s head spin any less.

He can practically see the moment Tobirama mentally shrugs. He turns back to Hikaku, visibility thinks for a moment, then steps close without any warning, one hand heavy on his shoulder as he holds him there and rubs his face over Hikaku's hair and clothes, further mingling his scent with Madara's.

This is much closer to the cursory scenting that Hikaku had been expecting between Madara and Tobirama, but even now Tobirama lingers just a little longer than he absolutely has to. When he leans back, it’s not very far. He looks Hikaku over, as if confirming to himself that he hasn't pushed him too far. Thankfully, Hikaku was correct about that much -- his lightheadedness has grown to the edge of uncomfortable, but not unworkably so.

"I'm afraid we don't have time for you to sleep this off." Tobirama tells him, "Do you consider yourself mission ready?"

Madara shoots his mate a glare for asking, but Hikaku takes a long moment to actually try and think about it.

"Not for combat." He mumbles, then clears his throat and tries to make himself speak clearly. "Gathering intel will be hampered. But I'm capable of sitting quietly through hours of ceremony."

"…Perhaps the effects will have lessened by then. Good call." Tobirama nods, and Hikaku finds himself embarrassed at the way the praise makes him want to lean in closer to the omega and curl up under his chin. He doesn’t remember ever feeling so strongly about wanting that even when he was a child.

Madara turns to look at him again, expression pinched.

"We will talk about this." He says, severe enough that would make Hikaku worry if he didn't feel so floaty. "But it will have to wait until later. We need to get going soon."

They can't move at speed in their formal clothes anyways, so as the retinue gathers and heads for the palace Hikaku is able to keep up without tripping over himself. Thankfully, as a shinobi clan, there isn't much need for them to make a grand entrance. As nobility It would be their right to do so, and previous clan heads have leveraged that for politics in the past, but it's tradition for shinobi clans to appear among the others at court as though they have always been there. Because of that Hikaku is able to rely on muscle memory as he follows Madara and Tobirama through well-worn secret passages, until they reach the end and their entire retinue waits for Madara's signal to body flicker into their spots in the great hall where the other clans have started to assemble.

Hikaku manages to do it without stumbling. He even remembers to sit at the cushion laid out for him, just behind Madara and Tobirama, instead of retreating further back as he usually does -- though that's at least in part due to his hindbrain insisting he stay close to them.

Over the years, the spots for shinobi clans have been separated out from the rest. In ages past the Uchiha would have been seated very near the daimyo himself, but now their spot is along the wall in between the Akimichi and the Aburame. No one from those groups is actually surprised by their appearance, but nearly every single one of them turns to look, regardless. Madara nods at them as though he is being greeted rather than put under scrutiny.

The civilian clans, once they've noticed their arrival, are even more obvious. The volume of the room rises as eyes start turning in their direction, quiet chatter erupting behind fans all across the room. The voices only grow louder still when, across the room, the Senju delegation arrives. They're as quiet as any other shinobi clan at first, but as soon as he's taken his seat, Hashirama grins and waves. He drops his hand after just a moment, which they probably have Mito, who is kneeling demurely next to him, to thank for, but it's enough to send another wave of glances and whispers their way, especially when Madara folds his arms and nods back.

For his part, Hikaku swallows hard and makes certain that he looks as he should. He doubts he's the only one in the room who's inebriated -- it seems every year finds a new scandal where someone gets drunk to make it through the mind numbing boredom of some of these events -- but he'd bet money that he's the only one who isn't intentionally so.

The room is warm, the conversations distant and quiet. Hikaku fights to stay alert, but time seems to stretch, and it’s difficult both not to fidget or drift off.

A gong sounds and the whole room shifts to attention as a man -- some relation to the daimyo, Hikaku is sure, but he can't recall how right this moment -- announces that the Lord of Fire has arrived. The bamboo curtain at the front of the room is pulled aside, and the entire crowd bows down.

Toshiro Kazuya wears his age well, with only a bit of grey around his temples and laugh lines only just starting to show. The daimyo sits  with a straight back, sharp eyes assessing the room. Hikaku doesn't think he imagines the way he pays just a bit more attention to the shinobi than usual.

“His lordship welcomes you to his court, and wishes to greet you all.” The attendant calls. The daimyo gestures for him to stand back, heavy sleeves trailing brushing along the floor.

"On this day, I extend my gratitude to each of you for your loyalty and dedication to the Land of Fire, and for joining me in celebrating it." He raises an open hand to the crowd. "It would please your lord greatly to hear of the news that has blessed each of you since last we joined together."

And so, the mind-numbing production that is the greeting ceremony begins.

Hikaku was correct in his self-assessment. Though he knows that watching all of the tiny interactions going on in front of him is important to understanding the politics he's going to have to deal with, as right now  he can’t make himself focus enough to even name half of the clans in attendance. He tries to remember at least the order in which they’re called to present but even that slips from his mind. It takes almost too much willpower not to ignore it all, to instead reach out and wrap one of the strands that has fallen out of Madara's topknot around his fingers. The fact that he has to restrain himself from it at all makes it feel like something just under his skin is pulling uncomfortably tight.

Some part of his rational mind recognizes just how ridiculous he's being right now, but that does nothing to stop tears from springing up to burn behind his eyes. It's ridiculous to expect that Madara -- or even Tobirama -- would pay any attention to him now of all times. He still wishes they would; but then, he's been wishing that for a long time. He's just… Normally so much better at restraint.

He only manages to control himself at all by folding his fingers together and imagining what will have to come later. An uncomfortable conversation, maybe, but a reaction like over simply being scented is far too large of a weakness to ignore, and maybe now that he has an excuse…

Hikaku has to circulate chakra to his face to keep from blushing. There's the embarrassment. He closes his eyes and takes a steady breath in, but Madara and Tobirama's scent are all over him, and it shouldn't be affecting him, but it is, and he's never been more desperate to have a high collar to hide his face behind, but he's stuck in formal clothes like everyone else.

This is not torture, he tells himself. You have been through worse. All you have to do is sit here and look bored. Which is much harder than it sounds when he doesn't even have breathing exercises to fall back on.

So much making a good first impression on the rest of the court. With the way focus is on them, he's sure the entire room will see what a twitchy mess he is before the ceremony is over.

When a retainer approaches and quietly informs them that the Uchiha are to present themselves next, Hikaku is so deeply focused on not allowing himself to behave strangely that he doesn't remember to nod until after the man has already turned away. And of course, when Madara glances back at him he still nearly jumps out of his skin anyways.

Hikaku takes a shallow breath and nods at him. Maybe he should stay behind, but he can't afford to, not when he needs to assert that he has authority. Acting oddly will still be better than making no appearance at all, especially when that's what so many civilians expect from shinobi anyways. So long as he doesn't do something like burst into tears, he'll at least have some sort of starting point.

Madara and Tobirama stand, and he stands with them, walks just behind them,  when they kneel and bow, he’s only a beat out of time which hopefully won't even be of note to the shinobi audience. He just needs an extra moment to hide the way his breath stutters. The strange relaxation he'd been feeling before is gone. Now, especially with all of these eyes on him, he just wants to curl up and hide behind the collective bulk of the men in front of him.

 Hikaku swallows hard as Madara starts to speak. Still not torture. If only technically.

"This one brings nothing but the most excellent news. Since last we were here, my clan has ended a generations long feud. I myself have taken a mate." He reaches out to take Tobirama's hand, who bows his head again like he's being presented to court for the first time and not like his marriage has been the hottest topic of discussion for months. "We hope that putting these old grudges to rest will lead to a new age of prosperity. And we've brought a gift for you to reflect that hope …"

Madara goes on to explain the fine craftsmanship of the tea set that they've brought -- and it truly is a gift they wouldn't have been able to afford to bring in a year they expected to be going to wa: bright red glaze and gold enamel, a full set of kinrande style cups and dishes.

Everyone's speeches are rehearsed, but Madara's is more obviously so than most -- he hates having to act humble, nor does he know more than the basics of making ceramics. He'd had to do it the difficult way, too -- the rules against ninjutsu in the court are vague when it comes to doujutsu, but no one would appreciate their activation while speaking directly to the daimyo.

As Madara speaks, another attendant brings the gift over for their lord to examine. He strokes his beard, as though considering something, and then smiles.

"It is a fine work; perhaps one of the finest I've seen come from your clan in my own lifetime… I can see your clan is already enjoying great prosperity indeed." His words and his expressions are all choreographed, or at least Hikaku thinks so, but anything more than the surface level meaning is lost on him right this moment. He's almost starting to feel like he's coming down with a proper illness, at this point, now having to work to suppress shivers.

"…We are." Madara agrees. Now that he's not working from a script, it's clear that he's having to work much harder to remember to stay formal. "In fact, it is our wish that the entire land of fire shares in it."

Hikaku is more aware of the way Madara stiffens at the reaction of the room than the movement in his periphery. He's not even certain that Madara has actually made a misstep; his thoughts about it are immediately derailed by the way Tobriama leans to Madara's ear, and how Madara gestures for him to speak.

"We are not so presumptuous as to imagine the entire country has been touched by our conflict, but neither were we unaware of its scope." Tobirama does not speak with the deferential tone that omegas in court are expected to, which will probably be his own controversy, but the room still seems be hanging on his words, "Whatever the future may bring, we know at least that those down the river from us will no longer have to see it tainted with blood."

…That sounds good. The daimyo seems to think so, at least, because he smiles again.

"So it does. And let us hope that it remains true."

His eyes linger on each of them for a moment, and Hikaku's mouth goes dry, but he dips his head to dismiss them after a moment, and Hikaku silently sends up a prayer of thanks that the lord of fire had no interest in publicly questioning the beta behind the people on interest. All he has to do now is get through the rest of the ceremony in one piece.

Which should just be… A few more hours.

Not torture. But it certainly feels like it.

By the time the ceremony is over and the clans have been dismissed to rest for the evening, Hikaku's head is pounding. Whatever effects being scented had on his mood have long since dissipated; by the time they've arrived back in the manor the tears that seem to keep wanting to appear are owed more to exhaustion than any other emotion. His entire body feels leaden, muscles aching and thoughts sluggish in the way they only get after the most taxing of missions, when all he's done for hours is sit in place and try not to have a meltdown.

He's not at all prepared for the conversation that's about to be had -- would like very much to crawl away and curl up on his futon, in fact -- but he's in no place to deny it, either.

Madara gives him some small mercy by not immediately bombarding him with questions the moment they're in private, but he does cross his arms and look Hikaku over like he's searching for hidden weapons, which isn't much better. Tobirama does it too, though he seems satisfied with whatever he finds after only a single glance and moves past to start the lengthy process of disrobing like it's his only concern. Hikaku very seriously considers following his lead, but before he can Madara narrows his eyes and finally speaks.

"When exactly was the last time you were scented?"

He’s expecting it, but Madara’s voice still makes him want to flinch.

Unfortunately, the only thing that comes to mind is the memory of Madara ten years ago.  He wracks his brain and comes up empty -- but it can't have been that long. Eight years? Or maybe five? That sounds reasonable.

He must take too long to think, because Madara sucks in a sharp breath and straightens his shoulders. "You don't even remember, do you?"

Hikaku lets his jaw click shut instead of trying to take a guess at how long it's been;  there's no reason to refute him when he's correct, after all.

 Madara takes Hikaku's silence for the agreement that it is, which only seems to make him even more agitated. His eyes pull tight at the corners, a pinched frown appearing and deepening alongside the acrid burning ash scent that comes alongside Madara's agitation. The state that he's in right now, Hikaku can't quite stop himself from tensing at it, only just stopping himself from ducking his head.

"…I just don't understand how you could let yourself get to this point." Is how Madara starts, more quietly than Hikaku expected from him, though no less intense for it. "Scent drunk from just that much. If you needed someone, I would never have turned you away -- even before I invited you into my home, but especially not after."

Hikaku is quick to shake his head but the words stick in his throat and tumble out in a mess.

"It's not --" He tries, face heating with shame. "It simply never occurred to me that this was a possibility. I don't need it -- I'm not supposed to need it. So, why ask?"

Madara's brows furrow and he stares for a long moment before huffing a sigh and turning his face to the side.

"And no one would have thought to ask you," Hikaku's mouth goes sour at the mumbled comment, but Madara plows on, louder, before he can ask.  "I just don't see how you can't even realize, not when I know you know what you're missing."

But I didn't! Hikaku thinks with rising panic. And he can find no explanation for it that Madara might accept. He simply didn't think of it.

Tobirama pauses from where he's hanging his outer robe -- which Hikaku should be doing for him -- and hums just loud enough to attract their attention.

"Hikaku-san, I believe we might be similar in this respect -- would it be accurate to say that you don't feel the instinctual urge to seek out a scent? And as such, it doesn’t occur to you to do so?"

Relief rushes through Hikaku as he nods.

"Yes that's -- that's exactly right." Madara's eyes go wide; Hikaku rushes to add, "It's not as though I never think about it but no, there's no urge."

Madara looks between him and his mate sharply, though Tobirama only responds with a raised eyebrow. For a long moment the tension in the air is so thick it could be mistaken for killing intent. Then Madara scoffs.

"Well maybe you need one, if you think it's fine to go that long without." He finally settles on facing Tobirama, tense as a bowstring. "And shouldn't you have been affected nearly as badly? I've never heard of an omega going months without scenting before."

The omega in question outright rolls his eyes.

"Then you've fallen into the same trap that has civilians thinking we can't fight. My need for scent is likely much lower than many other omegas, and there are most certainly betas and alphas who have greater need than I." Red eyes flick to Hikaku for a moment, "…Though I do have a rough idea of how long I can go without before suffering from those kinds of issues. I can recall the last time I was, for one thing."

Hikaku does a poor job of hiding his wince, though thankfully neither of them acknowledge it with more than a glance.

"So what then, your instincts are broken?" Madara crosses his arms -- to Hikaku, it's clear that he's hiding his discomfort at this conversation behind bluster, "I guess that explains some things."

Tobirama doesn't quite rise to the bait, but his face settles into a blank mask.

"The instincts I have work just fine. Where you're making a mistake is assuming that there's a unified set of instincts for any designation at all. Commonalities, yes --" He holds up a hand to cut Madara off from where he'd been about to retort, "But I'd wager that looking at nearly any individual would have you finding exceptions to what we consider rules. Even you don't behave exactly as society at large believes an alpha should -- I couldn't stand you if you did."

It’s an odd way of admitting that he doesn't mind Madara's company, which must throw him off balance enough not to immediately start a shouting match. Tobirama turns away from him to look at Hikaku and carries on, "I've long suspected that while some betas may have dull or no instincts, many others have a blend of those we would usually attribute to alphas or omegas. Though I will grant you that all of my evidence on that hunch is anecdotal, since I haven't exactly had the time or resources to do any actual in depth research on it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Madara pipes up in his stead. "How would you even research that? And what evidence?"

"Wide scale surveys, blood tests and dissections." He answers easily, turning back to Madara, "And Hikaku-san, for one. For another…” He pauses for a moment to think. “I know of a person who was the son of an aggressive alpha. Throughout their childhood they also showed many of the traits one would associate with being an alpha -- territorial, protective of those they deemed as pack, often getting into fights with their father. But they never presented as such, and when their father died, many of those traits lessened or disappeared entirely. As far as most would know today he's a perfectly normal beta, but I know for a fact some of those tendencies still remain. And I've collected dozens of similar stories over the years."

"That just sounds like puberty." Madara scoffs, but there's a thoughtful tilt to his mouth now.

"It's not exactly unheard of." Hikaku pulls his thoughts together enough to say. Just recently Izuna was struggling with it -- now it's happened to him, too. He gives in to the urge to rub at his tired eyes. "But they're supposed to be lesser. And when we do have them we're expected to be able to suppress them without any trouble."

"That can't possibly be healthy." Madara exclaims, "Just look at what happened to you today!"

Hikaku wonders if he might burst into tears after all. He ducks his head to hide the way he knows his face must fall.

"Apologies Madara-sama. Tobirama-sama." His voice is remarkably even, considering, "I'll do my best not to let it happen again."

Madara takes a long moment to respond.  "…Damn it. Hikaku, I didn't mean that as a reprimand towards you."

"I'm doubtful that I'm owed an apology at all." Tobirama adds. Hikaku dares to look up -- Madara's jaw is tight, while Tobirama looks as un-fussed as ever. He’s looking down, picking at the obi knot Hikaku tied for him earlier as he speaks. "What's more important than that is the second part of your statement. Since neither you nor I can rely on instinct to know when it's needed, and since it would apparently be rude for Madara-sama to initiate, I believe it might be in all of our best interests to simply schedule a recurring time to scent each other."

Madara's face contorts into a grimace.

"Schedule?"

Tobirama nods, making no acknowledgement of the disdain dripping from Madara's tone.

"Once a week seems acceptable."

"No it doesn't!" Madara shouts. He takes a breath that comes out sounding more like a growl. "It needs to be every day. You do realize that most packs do it even more often than that?"

Tobirama's glare slides from Madara back down to his obi. His only retort is, "Hikaku-san may not be able to handle that much at once."

"So we ease him into it." Madara responds. Like it's just that simple. "And you can get full service in the meantime."

The glance Tobirama shoots up at his mate from behind his lashes is unimpressed, but he doesn't actually raise an argument against it.

"Hikaku-san, I believe the best way to deal with your current state is exposure to a small amount of scent over a long period of time." He says instead. Hikaku feels frozen in place. "You should probably take a scent token to bed with you and keep it with you throughout the day."

“Simple enough.” Madara agrees.

"Ah -- Alright." Hikaku squeaks. The combination of exhaustion and embarrassment has made a mess of any chakra control he has left, and he can do nothing to stop his cheeks from reddening.

Madara takes that as his cue to go digging in a tansu for a scarf to mark. Hikaku's attention jerks from him back to Tobirama as the omega finishes picking his obi knot apart and pulls a handkerchief folds. He doesn't know where to look at all as both of them rub the fabric over their faces and down their necks. Madara is being more thorough with it, so Tobirama finishes first and steps over to him, pressing the silk square into his numb fingers with a simple, "Here." And like it's a challenge, Madara crowds in close to both of them and closes his hand around Hikaku's so that he's forced to wrap his fingers around the scarf he shoves in him.

"Get some rest." He commands. Hikaku swallows around his dry mouth and nods and finds that can't make himself move from his spot. Not until Madara leans back and raises an eyebrow, at which point he jumps, mumbles something affirmative and scurries away before he finds out that it is actually possible to embarrass himself even further.

He wants to collapse onto his futon, but even after he does Hikaku remains wide awake, heart pounding and heat refusing to leave his face, scent tokens clutched against his chest. It should be nothing to him. It feels like the most important thing in the world.

A full night's rest doesn’t help as much as Hikaku wishes it did. It’s dulled his headache, at least, and the other aches that had resulted from holding his body so tense for so many hours, but his concentration is not nearly at the level he needs it to be to deal with the upcoming events of the day.

Madara and Tobirama are separated nearly first thing in the morning -- Madara shuffles off to the informal meeting of clan heads that happens while the ladies of the noble houses are brought to one of the eastern gardens to attend a tea ceremony.

After the disaster that was yesterday, Hikaku desperately needs to play catch up on figuring out the political landscape. Technically speaking, he’d be better off joining Madara for that, but he’d already decided before they even arrived at the capitol that he’d be attending Tobirama at this event. It’s more proper, for one thing; they don’t need to deal with the rumors that would fly if Hikaku left him on his own right away. It’s also safer -- he’s far less likely to be scrutinized or asked to speak at a tea ceremony, which makes him less likely to reveal his current weakness: the fact that he can’t quite keep his attention from being drawn back to the scented squares of fabric that have been folded under the collar of his kimono.

It makes him feel a bit like a child with a stuffed doll to keep the scent tokens on his person like he is. Comforting, yes, grounding even, compared to the state he was in before, but he can’t quite shake the embarrassment of wanting it at all.

But it’s manageable, and Hikaku very much doubts that it will become an issue this morning because the daimyo’s head wife has placed the seats for the shinobi clans as far away from where she sits as she can get away with without it becoming an outright snub. Hikaku does make a point to glance at her out of the corner of his eye as they pass her to get to their seats, this being the closest he's ever been to her and the first opportunity he's ever had to get a proper look.

Yumiko Kazuya sits straight backed, severe and proud, the long sleeves of her rich red robes draped perfect and artfully over her lap and white face powder painted on thick and even to cover any sign of a wrinkle. Which is an odd choice for this time of year, especially when as far as Hikaku has been able to tell so far, omega fashion has been trending towards more naturalistic looks. A quick look around confirms that her closest relatives are wearing the same to match her, while a handful of the other omegas have compromised and put on their makeup thicker, but not fully painted. It must have been something I missed when I was out of my mind yesterday, Hikaku thinks wryly. Tobirama almost certainly would have noticed himself and for some reason decided not to follow.

In the long shadows of the early morning most of the participants are shaded by the wisteria that’s just starting to bloom from where it hangs on the pergola above them, but at the far end where the shinobi  sit, and thus where Hikaku kneels behind Tobirama, they have no cover from the sun. Even this early, the heat is uncomfortable, and if it weren’t for his chakra control Hikaku would be sweating through his clothes already.

The ceremony itself is quiet. Harmless, except that it stretches so long that it’s midmorning by the time the formalities are over with and the heat now pushes down on them like a leaden weight. Hikaku gets the sense that the master of ceremonies isn’t terribly happy that a third of the participants aren’t able to truly enjoy the proceedings, though it hardly shows more than a twitch of his lips when he steps out into the sun to serve them.

As soon as it becomes acceptable to speak, Hikaku leans forward.

“Are you alright in this heat, Tobirama-sama?”

The omega is in several more layers than him, after all, though he hasn’t so much as reached for his fan even now that he’s able to do so. His sideways glance back toward Hikaku lingers for a moment, but all he answers with is a slight nod.

Around them, quiet conversations have started. Ostensibly, they’re meant to be about the tea or the ceremony itself, but in a setting like this, it never is. It’s only a few moments, in fact, before the inevitable happens, and attention immediately shifts to the most interesting thing in the garden -- Tobirama.

Unlike Tobirama, Choto Akimichi has no reservations about using her fan to cool off, though Hikaku can’t imagine anyone would blame her, since she wears even more layers -- a proper old fashioned junihitoe in white and pink, with the clan’s butterfly crest worked into the pattern. Her fan is even more extravagant, with gold leaf worked into the painting of wisteria, to match the garden.

“Uchiha-dono.” She greets. From behind, Hikaku can’t see how Tobirama reacts to her, but whatever he does makes Choto's lips curl up in amusement. “I must admit, it’s a surprise to me that you’ve found your way here. Tell me, are you adapting well? It must be quite the change, to be in your position now.”

“Not as much as I’m sure you’re imagining.” Tobirama replies blandly. “Our clans were already quite familiar with each other beforehand, if you’ll recall. The entire process has gone better than expected all around.”

Choto’s eyes crinkle into slivers behind her fan.

“Is that saying much? I’ve heard that you’re quite the pessimist, Uchiha-dono.”

Hikaku makes sure his expression is schooled, but he can tell that he’s not the only one surprised at the familiarity with which they speak to each other. The Akimichi should have nothing to do with the Senju, as far as Uchiha intelligence knows. Yet Tobirama snipes back, “Then you’ve heard falsehoods. I am simply a realist.”

“A realist would find the developments of this past year so improbable as to be unbelievable.” Kyofu Aburame notes. She seems as unbothered by the heat as Tobirama does, and thanks to the dark lenses she wears Hikaku thought she had been examining the pattern on her tea cup until the moment she spoke.

“It would have seemed that way, yes.” Tobirama agrees, “But with careful planning the improbable can be made reality. And don’t discount the will of my husband and brother -- this wasn’t all as unpredictable as it might seem from the outside.”

"Oh believe me, I certainly wasn't doubting your brother's willpower." Choto chimes in, sounding very much like she's trying not to laugh, "I suppose there's not been the opportunity to test your husband's, though."

"It's formidable." Is Tobirama's inflectionless answer to that.

Shokari Utatane, the tiny brunette woman on the other side of Kyofu has been doing a poor job of hiding her interest in the conversation, and she finally gives in, turning to face the shinobi with less trepidation than most civilians would dare. She’s clearly not as unfavored as them, either --as the sun has risen the shadow of the pergola above has shifted so that most of her sits under dappled shadow.

"Is he as imposing as the rumors say?" She leans in, the bottom half of her face hidden behind her own fan, but her eyes sparkling, "And yet he still agrees to a marriage and peace. So he must not be so frightening in private then?"

That look on her face -- sage above, do civilians believe that Madara and Tobirama have some sort of romance?

Tobirama blinks slowly. "I don't believe I'm the right person to speak on what might be considered frightening, but no. He's been very accommodating."

A scoff from the youngest of the attendees.

"That's gracious of him. He must have quite a lot to accommodate for, considering your bad breeding."

Hukano Hyuuga can't be older than thirteen and must have only presented as an omega just this year. Anyone sane would have given him a few more years more to come into the role -- in fact Hikaku is reasonably certain that the older beta woman kneeling behind him is something like the boy's aunt and thus perfectly acceptable to act as lady Hyuuga for an event like this. Instead she sits back, expression blank, seal of her clan’s branch house painted across her forehead.

An awkward silence descends over their group and Hukano scowls when the agreement he expected doesn't immediately come flooding in.

If any one clan would feel especially threatened by the Senju-Uchiha alliance, it would be the Hyuuga since they aren't on particularly good terms with either clan. Hukano seems to have picked up enough to know that he shouldn't be happy about it, but isn't versed enough in politics to understand the thin line he’s treading. He’s lucky that this new alliance wants anything but more conflict.

“You all know it --” Hukano adds in a huff, “Even his husband must know it. Why else would he send a beta like that with him?”

…What is that supposed to mean? Hikaku doesn’t outwardly react beyond a blink, but was he really so much of a mess yesterday, to have earned a reaction like that?

“Nevertheless, I am in this position now.” Tobirama finally responds. He bows his head, “So I am relying on those with more knowledge to guide me as I learn what that means. I hope you will be willing to accommodate.”

Somehow he manages not to sound sarcastic. That and the fact that Hukano's his aunt has leaned forward to catch Hukano’s elbow leaves more than enough time for Choto to cut in, "Now, now. Hikaku-san may seem a bit intense but I've heard that he's actually a very personable man." She smiles at him for a flash, then turns her attention back to Tobirama. "That said, you do raise a good point about your experience, Uchiha-dono. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you find yourself confused about something."

And why should the Akimichi know anything about him? He knows how -- lower ranking betas tend to congregate around each other at events like these, and he’s found himself in the company of a certain Yamanaka more than once, but they'd never talked about anything important enough to be reported on to the head wife of an ally. Until he went and made himself a person of interest, he supposes.

"Oh, yes, there’s a lot you can miss if you were raised around this sort of thing." Shokari adds, apparently completely earnest and fully ignoring the tension radiating off of the young Hyuuga. "I wouldn't be remiss in inviting you to visit our pavilion a later afternoon, would I?"

"Not at all." Tobirama replies smoothly.

"Then you'll have to join us for morning tea as well." Hukano butts back in. "You have a lot to learn."

Before too much longer a servant informs them that Kazuya-sama wishes to retire to the inner garden and that they are dismissed if they so please. Tobirama leaves with an impressive three meetings with other clan ladies set up, though only the one with the Akimichi seems especially promising for their plans. Hikaku leaves alongside him, with very few answers to his questions to show for his time.

"I think that went well." Tobirama says when they've gone far enough down the garden walkway to be considered somewhat private. He glances at Hikaku from the side. "You don't seem like you think so."

"No, I do." Hikaku shakes his head, "My concerns are of a more personal nature."

Tobirama's gaze doesn't leave him, one eyebrow going up in question. Hikaku sighs.

"I was under the impression that I didn't do anything reputation-ruining yesterday, and yet…"

"Hm. No, you didn't." Tobirama agrees, "The only thing I can think of is that you were very focused on me and Madara-sama. Hukano might be interpreting that scrutiny in an uncharitable way."

That’s … Well it’s workable, at least. So long as that interpretation isn’t widespread.

 Tobirama faces forward and continues his sedate pace.

"I wasn't aware Choto knew you well enough to vouch for your character." He says after a moment, tone mild.

"She doesn't." Hikaku replies, just as bland, "But there's a Yamanaka who might."

Tobirama makes a noise of consideration. Before Hikaku can talk himself out of it, he continues on, just as mild as Tobirama had been, "I wasn't aware Choto knew you, either."

Tobirama snorts, thankfully they are far enough away from other onlookers by now that there's no one to be scandalized at something so uncouth.

"She doesn't. But I believe I've impressed a Nara or two." Tobriama hums again "That will be an interesting conversation. An alliance as close as those three have may well be a good model for how the village should operate."

"She certainly seemed eager to meet with you, at any rate."

"Mm. Shokari-dono too. Though we'll have to hope she's looking for an opportunity to get involved before her peers and not simply looking for gossip."

"Likely both." Hikaku says dryly. "Hukano, though…"

"Is still a child." Tobirama finishes for him, "I don't have plans to make his situation worse than his family already has. Though I suppose that tea will be a good opportunity to try and understand what his clan's internal politics are like at the moment."

"I suppose that's true." But it's probably that clan's typical mess, or else Hukano wouldn't have been there at all.

The winding path they've been taking lets out of the garden and in to one of the palace's wide galleries. As they step beneath the shade, Hikaku lets out a controlled breath as his control over his chakra slackens.

"You didn't use up too much chakra keeping cool, did you?" He asks. Not that it's a huge concern here in the capitol where there's so little opportunity to spend it.

"Not at all. Though…" Red eyes drift back over to Hikaku, “Many of the other people there weren’t chakra trained enough to do so. Some of them had started to sweat off their makeup before the end of it.”

So he’s noticed too. More than that, he sounds curious.

“I think only the omegas most closely related to Kazuya-sama were wearing it thick.” Hikaku offers.

“And it can’t just be about status. Noble blood doesn’t make you sweat any less.”

“So we’ll keep an eye on it. But…”

“But we have more important things to worry about.”  Tobirama agrees.

Despite his words, Tobirama falls into a thoughtful silence for the rest of the walk back to the main palace. Clearly he’s still thinking about it, but Hikaku doesn’t say a word to stop him. Shinobi can find advantages in the strangest places, after all.

Over the course of the next few days Hikaku is rushed between what feels like must be every room of the palace. If he's not with Tobirama, he's with Madara, or taking messages from them to Hashirama and Mito, or to other clans to arrange meetings. He'd like to say he's finally managed to find his footing, except it gets knocked out from under him every morning when Madara and Tobirama scent each other. Like that first time, it lasts longer than it absolutely needs to -- and just like that first time, Hikaku will fight down the squirming uncomfortable feeling that appears in his chest and force himself to watch.

They always give him refreshed scent markers right afterwards, which helps as much as it doesn't. It usually takes him until midmorning before he can truly make himself focus on other things. But he's getting better about it -- he thinks.

It is on one such morning that he's with Madara -- the outer grounds of the palace have been set up for a kyudo competition for all the young alphas that have been newly presented to the court this season to prove themselves in. The Uchiha have no one to present, but both Fuma and Hagomoro do, so Madara sits between his fellow clan heads to watch. In the shade this time, since there's not a formal seating arrangement, and with a spot for Hikaku beside him where there wouldn’t have been one before.

He almost finds himself wishing that bit hadn't changed, because now he's stuck sitting in between Madara and Myo Fuma, who has taken to jabbing him with her elbows to emphasize her point when she speaks, or even worse, leaning on him like a piece of furniture to talk over his head at Madara. Her alpha scent is dampened enough for polite company, not fully masked, and Hikaku normally would have hardly noted such a thing, except that now it makes him want to sneeze every time he breathes it too deeply. He endures it, even as she practically slings her arm around his shoulders to point at one of the alphas that have lined up for the next round -- besides heading her clan, she's old enough that if she were in the Uchiha she'd have a place on the elder council. It's simply not worth raising a fuss about.

"--That's the one, Hagane clan. Third from the left. He ran off into the scrub when he presented. Had to send a whole squad to drag him home."

"You wouldn't have remembered him if it were an easy mission." Tsuru Hagomoro says airily. She sits up properly on Madara's other side, one of the feather fans her clan is famous for stirring up enough breeze for all of them.

"Oh no, it took them five days, since they couldn't hurt the kid. Pampered thing, but he did well enough out in the wilderness."

"That doesn't make him good at kyudo. And you know I don't gamble."

The conversation stalls to an awkward halt. There's a smattering of applause as one of the competitors on the field lands a shot. Madara crosses his arms.

"Quit dancing around it and say what you want to say."

The two women share an unreadable look with each other over Hikaku's head.

"What's there to say?" Says Myo, "You've found peace with the Senju. We're all just waiting to see what happens next."

"I'm sure you've already got some idea." Madara huffs, "The plan is a village open to all of the clans in fire so we can cooperate instead of fighting with each other all the time. Nothing to say about that?"

"Only that I'll believe it when I see it." Tsuru says, "That's not an uphill battle, that's climbing a mountain under fire. No non-shinobi clan would agree to it."

Hikaku shakes his head. There may not ever be a better time for a plan like this. Each generation has seen the daimyo’s power grow more centralized and less opportunity for his vassals to wage war with each other. If he wants to end it entirely he’d be foolish to pass up this opportunity.

"They don't need to agree to it, only the daimyo does. And if they're not actively hiring us to fight for them, most only care about how much it costs to hire a bodyguard."

Hikaku shrugs. It doesn't dislodge Myo's arm from his shoulders.

"I think I see where this is going." She says slowly, "Get everyone to agree to a shinobi village because it'll be cheaper, then when they're all in one place…"

She raises her eyebrows meaningfully. Hikaku raises his back.

"The daimyo is likely to want state control of mission prices to avoid what you're thinking of." Hikaku informs her, meeting her eyes until understanding dawns. They'll let him set the prices of all of the escort and bodyguard missions that he wants. The real money comes in from things like assassination and sabotage, anyways, and there will be no laws about the cost of those.

"Hm. Well that's food for thought." She leans back. "To tell you the truth, I was planning on giving you and your new wife a year before doing anything -- didn't see a point in getting involved if the two of you were just going to kill each other. But you do raise some interesting points."

"You don't need to worry about my marriage." Madara says dryly, brushing off her arm around Hikaku's shoulders to replace it with his own. He suddenly finds it significantly harder to focus on the conversation at hand. "Tobirama is as dedicated to this plan as any of us. All we're really asking is that if someone approaches you about it, you act like it's a good idea."

Myo huffs. "I'll say what I think. But who knows, maybe I do think so."

Tsuru's slow fanning continues. She doesn't say anything at all.

Tobirama's meeting with the Akimichi was apparently just as inconclusive.

"She seemed enthusiastic." Tobirama tells him as Hikaku splits from Madara to join him as he walks to the pavilion that the Utatane has invited him to. "But she made it a point that her personal opinion had limited weight with the rest of her clan."

Not surprising, the entire meeting was clearly a cover for her to gather intel about the plans of their alliance, and she wouldn't want to promise them anything this early.

"Her retainers were harder to read." He adds after a moment, "But I suppose that if the Nara or Yamanaka have questions, they already have connections to get their answers from."

…That they do.

Hikaku trails a step behind Tobirama as they round the corner and approach the open doors of the room. He wasn't the only one invited it seems -- Shokari  greets Tobirama with a smile; sitting around her are more omegas and their attendants, all of whom Hikaku has never interacted with. Here, surrounded by civilians, Hikaku is expected to fill that role as well, and so he introduces Tobirama to the group and smoothly sets out a cushion for him to join them.

Shokari takes charge of introducing the other guests back in turn. The other clans represented here are mostly craftsmen who happily rely on Utatane trading networks to sell their goods. It's not one of the largest trade networks in the land of fire, but there's a not insignificant amount of money and power gathered in this room.

There is some light conversation for a few minutes before Shokari's waves one of her attendants over to pass her a lacquered box.

“I've heard your clan has a reputation for their skills at this game, I hope you don't mind that I've bought it for us to play?" She smiles and begins laying out tiles. This e-awase set is inlaid with gold leaf and mother of pearl, and the sight of it fills Hikaku with a mild sense of dread.

"Not at all. I've heard the same thing." Tobirama responds as he settles himself. "I suppose I'll have to see if I can defend the title."

 He sounds faintly amused. Hikaku has no idea whether that’s genuine or not.

There's nothing Hikaku can do here but keep his face under control and watch as they play. Rather than their hands, they pick up the tiles with long ivory chopsticks. That and the fact some of the others here seem to have far more practice means that when Tobirama wins, it's only by two tiles.

"You are good!" Shokari claps her hands in what appears to be genuine glee, before leaning forward to begin resetting the pieces. "Though I think we ought to make it a best of three?"

No one argues, instead leaning in to be in a better position for the next round.

Tobirama does not win.

Shokari does, by one tile, and her eyes sparkle as she resets them again.

"Ah, close game!" She says. "What do you say we make the last round more interesting?"

Tobirama tilts his head for her to go on. She smiles back at him, and Hikaku wonders if she doesn't have any fear of shinobi at all.

"Nothing too dramatic. Lets just say … If you win, I'll answer a question of yours, and if I win, you answer a question of mine?"

It would be a tempting offer for most, the right question could be worth a lot of money.

"And if one of us wins?" One of the other courtesans in the circle asks.

"Then I suppose that we'll both have to answer a question or yours. It shouldn't be any trouble right?" She turns back to Tobirama. "Shinobi do trade in information after all."

"They trade in secrets too." He answers carefully, "So I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific before I agree to a bet like that."

Shokari's cheerful façade freezes for a moment, the calculation behind her eyes obvious for a sliver of a moment.

"The plans of your clan’s new alliance, then. Will you agree if that's what I'm asking for? You can still ask me anything you'd like." She says sweetly.

 If Tobirama denied her again, that would be its own sort of information -- but Shokari doesn't know that he has no reason to. He feigns being in deep thought. Hikaku doesn't do something so obvious as nod, but the brief eye contact Tobirama makes with him from the corner of his eye is enough of a signal on its own. Even the Lady Uchiha's reputation at games is its own tool, to be leveraged where it needs to be.

"I suppose I can agree to that." Tobirama says, shifting forward. The other courtesans all seem to hold their breath, even the one who argued before letting them play without interference.

Shokari Utatane has most certainly been hustling them from the beginning -- Tobirama does not have to try much at all to lose on purpose. The entire set is divided between only the two of them, but she has four more pairs of tiles than Tobirama does when all is said and done.

Shokari smiles again, and even now it looks like genuine joy at winning the game instead predatory like it probably ought to be.

"It was a good game, Uchiha-dono. The best I've had in a long while." And now the calculation returns to her eyes, "And my question isn't such a difficult one. I only wonder -- How do you ninja intend to support yourselves if not by war?"

It's almost the perfect question to have been asked. Hikaku knows that Tobirama has already worked out a thousand different answers to this question; he only pauses to think of which ones Shokari would most want to hear.

"Labor." He says, "And trade. Imagine all of the ninjutsu that has been used to raze fields and destroy villages used to grow and harvest them instead. With energy focused in the correct direction, I fully believe that we can invent things that could be revolutionary."

Not a competitor to them, but an entirely new market. One that they'll want to be a part of.

Shokari purses her lips -- wary and intrigued all at once.

"…If  you'll allow a follow up question, Uchiha-dono, I would be very interested to hear some examples of what you have in mind."

Tobirama inclines his head.

"Fire fueled by chakra burns cleaner than those fueled by anything else, which I expect should increase the efficiency of synthesizing chemical compounds and therefore things like new medicine to a significant degree. Glass, ceramic and steel could see new innovations as well. And that's only off the top of my head -- Imagine being able to hire builders who can walk on water and up walls. I myself am capable of summoning enough water each day to irrigate upwards of twenty five chō, and with enough pressure to slice through iron. I can think of many applications for such things."

Hikaku hadn't known that. Izuna must be stronger than he ever realized to have survived this long.

Tobirama does not speak with the charisma of his brother, he simply lays out one potential opportunity after another. In front of this crowd it's likely more effective than promises of a peaceful future. There are certainly many meaningful glances being shared.

"I see… It seems as though you've thought this through quite thoroughly." Shokari is thoughtful in one moment, and then all smiles in the next, "Well, I certainly think you've answered my questions -- How about another round. No stakes this time?"

They play two more. Tobirama does not lose again.

Afterwards, Shokari gestures for her attendant to gather the tiles and bows at the waist to all of them.

"I appreciate all of your attendance, but I am afraid that I must depart soon so that I might be prepared to greet my husband this evening. You are all of course welcome to stay as you wish."

No one seems interested in doing so; Shokari's departure signals the rest to begin leaving as well, sharing their own pleasantries and goodbyes. Tobirama joins them, though he doesn't leave as abruptly as Hikaku thought he might. Two seats to Tobirama's right a woman is starting to rise to her feet, he says just loudly enough for her to hear, "Nori-dono, could I have a moment?"

She clearly has a much healthier respect of shinobi than Shokari does -- there is clear dismay and fear on her face when she realizes who is asking for her, though she schools her face quickly enough.

"Of course." She says politely, despite the tension obvious in the line of her shoulders. "How can this one assist you?"

"I'm only wanting to confirm some information for myself." Tobirama folds his hands into his sleeves -- most civilians seem to think it less threatening. Hikaku follows Tobirama's lead and hides his own hands as well. "Your clan manufactures cosmetics, correct? Is it true you sell directly to our lord's family?"

Oh, this again.

"It is." Nori says, growing more steady as the conversation goes into familiar territory, "Even we were surprised at its popularity this summer."

"As were we all." Tobirama smiles thinly, "I suppose it would be too much to hope that there is any left for one as unprepared as I?"

Nori purses her lips, clearly debating with herself.

"There is some." She admits, offering Tobirama a wan smile in return. "Though we have had to resort to rationing it -- but your skin is so -- fine already. You should not need much"

Tobirama does not react to the slip; likely she did not want to draw attention to the red markings on his own face. Come to think of it, Hikaku doesn't know if they are clan markings or something else -- he's never seen another Senju with anything similar.

 Even as afraid of Tobirama as she is, Nori does not back down from a price well above the usual market value. And Tobirama, not willing to make an enemy of anyone in the group he has just spent so much effort trying to win over, begrudgingly agrees to it.

Once they're out of earshot, Hikaku can't help but ask lightly, "Worth it?"

Tobirama shoots him a sharp glare that says he intends to find out.

Come evening, Hikaku again finds himself standing an arms length away from Hashirama and his wife.

 The daimyo's second son has acquired a collection of painted screens and other art from some master in the land of tea and his hosting a viewing. Hikaku would have liked to attend anyways, but It's a convenient enough way to speak without having to resort to secret meetings -- though still he can't help but feel a bit strange about exchanging coded messages with the Senju clan head. Hashirama's earnestness about how good it is to see to him feels almost too genuine, as backwards as the sentiment is.

Thankfully, there's nothing too complicated to relay. Things are tentatively going well, but they'll need more than the cautious interest others have expressed if they're to make anything of this plan, and the more support they have, the more suspicion they'll garner. There's not much more to it than greetings and assurances that their respective days have been pleasant -- then Mito gives him a rather cat-like smile and asks, "I heard there were games played this afternoon?"

Hikaku blinks, unsure what she's looking for.

"Not by me." He offers. "Though your brother in law did some of the most exciting tile matching I've ever seen."

The answer has Hashirama's eyes sparkling with mirth.

"I hope he didn't get too competitive?"

Mito shakes her head, "Likely not enough, if the Utatane live up to their reputation. But I'm glad he's learned to play -- we'll have to invite him the next time we host a hanafuda game. They're similar enough that I think he would catch on quickly, and the Shimura I've played with always claim to want more of a challenge."

"I also heard --" Mito continues impishly,  "That my brother in law has become concerned with fashion."

"…To an extent." Hikaku replies carefully. Word travels fast, it seems. "Who hasn't these days? You are not so unfashionable yourself, Mito-sama."

Mito is dressed as androgynously as a clan-head's wife can be in court. The jade green tomesode she wears tonight marks her only as a married woman, and she does not wear the thick face powder that Hikaku has seen explode in popularity among the omegas. There is only one citrus and pine scent alpha scent between her and her husband, and seeing how he wears the haori and hakama all clan heads do, Hikaku has no clue as to the source.

"Kind words, Hikaku-san." Her expression remains conspiratorial, "I have my Uzumaki heritage to thank. Our vitality lasts for many years."

Message sent and received, Hikaku supposes. Mito thinks the makeup is being used to hide something, too, even if it might just be someone not aging as gracefully as they'd like.

"And you look well yourself." She bows slightly and Hashirama follows her cue to do the same, "Though if you'll pardon us, I wanted to get a closer look at this screen with the cranes."

…Hikaku wanted to look at that one as well, but he can take her meaning well enough. They're being paid attention to, and don't want to look suspicious or insular by carrying on for too long. He bows as well and meanders his way over to look at one of the wall scrolls that's on display instead.

He's stopped a few times, though the conversations don't go much deeper than a polite greeting and shallow conversation -- Hikaku knows when he's being sized up. He slowly circles around most of the room, only to bump into Hashirama again near the end. His wife is nowhere to be found, seemingly with the crowd that have migrated out to the adjoining garden as the night has gone on, to view the moon as well.

"Hikaku-san." He greets, his smile is smaller than usual, though that makes it seem more genuine, "Are things going well? We've hardly had the chance to speak to each other like this."

Not just here at court, but ever in their lives. It's still such a strange thing for the Senju clan head to even know his name.

"They are." Hikaku glances around. Far fewer onlookers here than there were earlier in the night, and none of them obviously listening in -- though he still won't say too much. "There have been some… Misunderstandings. Cultural differences. Though I think we've gotten through the worst of them."

"Aah." Hashirama's smile becomes rueful, "Madara was upset about that as well. It isn't a clan thing. Our father was…. Fond of being in control, and not above leveraging instincts to maintain it."

He pauses, his voice dropping lower, "Tobirama didn't get scented near as often as a child should, and that didn't change at all after he presented. And there wasn't much I could do" He gestures as his own neck, at his scent glands that Hikaku is now realizing might be as useful as his own, "I always encouraged him to go out and bond with others, but well… It's Tobirama. He's always been far more interested in coming up with new solutions than doing what everyone else says works."

He looks wistful for a moment, before brightening up again.

"Which is why I'm glad that he's got more people to look out for him now! I know you'll take good care of him, Hikaku-san." Then he blinks, "Oh, but I meant to ask about how you were doing!"

"I--" Something about him wants to answer honestly. Everything about his life seems to be changing and will only continue to do so. Peace has been good, and personally --

Oh, Hashirama would absolutely recognize Tobirama's scent on him.

The scent tokens beneath his collar suddenly feel very warm. It's a small miracle that he manages to keep his face straight and voice steady, "Am doing better than ever."

"I'm glad." Hashirama says, and he must be one of the kindest people Hikaku knows to not say anything more on the matter, "And don't let me keep you any longer -- I ought to go find where my wife has gone before she can make too much trouble."

Hashirama also doesn't seem to mind that Hikaku can't muster any actual words to wish him goodbye. Only once he's gone does Hikaku take a deep breath -- hyper aware, again, of the sea salt and campfire scents that coat the back of his tongue.

He's ended up in front of the screen with the cranes after all. He might as well take that as a good omen.