Izuna, like Tobirama, has been quietly observing today; his face buried in his high collar, expression inscrutable. It's only at the end of the long afternoon of arguing and bargaining, when Hashirama tentatively brings up that their elders suggested that they arrange a marriage for peace that he speaks.
"Before we go through the trouble of all that," He interrupts smoothly, "Why don't we see if there's any soulmates between our clans? Both sides will have to respect a soul bond."
Tobirama carefully does not react, but he knows that's as good as a confession to Uchiha eyes. He wonders -- do they know it's him, or just believe it to be a Senju? The only hints he thought he'd would only have revealed that he is a man and some vague enemy of their clan. And yet --
The man standing guard on the back wall, the one with the tied back dark brown hair and the phoenix eyes, the one who's name Tobirama still does not know, makes a series of faces quite emotive for an Uchiha in public. Tobirama has never been good at facial cues, he can only read the widened eyes of surprise before the man catches himself and goes blank.
"And you don't think your clan will protest, given their worries about our techniques?" Tobirama replies before his brother can blithely agree -- He's smiling like he's going to -- but to assume that the Uchiha would accept a soulbond between one of theirs and a Senju when until quite recently they had apparently believed that their healing techniques and Hashirama's natural regeneration was some the result of twisted perversion of a bond --
Well, they wouldn't. It's not that easy.
"Having experienced that technique myself, I don't think there's any way it could be mistaken for a bond. And I'll tell them so." Izuna replies, waspish.
"And--" Madara adds, "Part of the agreement we just made will have your healers coming to us. It'll convince them."
"I think it's a great idea!" Hashirama claps his hands, finally getting a word in, "We can make a whole event out of it!"
It'd be better if they didn't. If they go though all trouble and a soulmate pair isn't found elders on both sides will almost certainly start raising a fuss about bad omens and the treaty being a mistake, despite the fact that actually ever finding one's soulmate is unlikely in the first place.
Tobirama thins his lips and doesn't protest the idea.
It's good, then, that they'll find a pair.
Tobirama has been tracking the chakra signatures all afternoon, delaying his own return home to see the safety of his clanmates through.
The squad of Senju set to guard the caravan are relatively young and inexperienced; no match for the squad of Uchiha that will likely intercept them in half an hour if nobody changes direction. It's not a coordinated attack, he thinks, but that doesn't mean it won't become one as soon as one side notices the other.
He gets ahead of the squad, between them and the Uchiha. The days of child killing are over, yes, but these young shinobi are blooded, if only just. If their enemies decide to interfere with a mission -- and the Uchiha almost always do -- it will not be against the orders of their clan heads.
Tobirama is above them when the enemy squad arrives at the road, crouched in the crook of a huge branch and unlikely to be seen unless the Uchiha look up -- which they may -- but close enough to hear with a bit of chakra pushed to his ears.
There's a soft curse as the Uchiha leans from the treeline and scans the road -- presumably with their sharingan activated, because the details would be far too distant to make out otherwise.
"Senju." Is all that's said, barely audible.
"I see them." The man who must be the squad leader replies. Something about him vaguely tickles Tobirama's memories -- he's probably seen him on the battlefield, though since Tobirama's time there is always spent fighting Izuna that's where the recognition ends. He's got what appear to be some kind of ceremonial tasuki fixed to his battle coat, though his sleeves aren't tied back.
"They're on a mission, they won't bother us." He continues after a moment, "We continue on."
A young voice. "Taichou look at them. It'd be fast."
"You know that for sure?" Their captain responds, darkly amused, "You know all their abilities and tactics? You're not underestimating them because of their age?"
"…No." Comes the grumpy response.
A huff that might be a laugh. "An easy way to save on time and resources is to not start fights where there's no need for one. They haven't even seen us. Lets go."
Tobirama can't see whether the man's team agree with his assessment or not, but they only linger for a moment longer before leaping across the gap in the trees. The young Senju do notice that, and they go on alert -- finally, Tobirama will have to train some awareness into them when they get back home -- but they will get back home. The Uchiha seem to be truly continuing on, not looping back around for an ambush.
Tobirama lets out a long, controlled breath.
Not starting fights where there's no need for one. That's a bit of pragmatism he can hardly manage to coax out of his own clan; he'd hardly been expecting to find it in an enemy. It's almost refreshing, in a weirdly disconcerting way.
Still, he trails the young squad for a few hours more, until they've arrived at the village they're stopping in for the night, and the Uchiha squad is so far away that it'd be nearly dawn again if they doubled back for the kill now. Far enough away that it's actually an Uchiha border patrol that's closer, now, and they're not near enough to be what he would normally consider a threat.
He's not gotten any information that's truly useful for his time, but it's intriguing and that's nearly as good. Perhaps it wasn't worth the fussing Hashirama will give him over the delay (even though he'll be arriving well within an acceptable timeframe, just not as early as usual), but Tobirama finds himself, not hopeful, as he leaps from branch to branch in the direction of home, but thoughtful.
When it comes to peace, that's more than he's been in quite some time.
Tobirama shifts, tugging uselessly at the hem of his haori.
Many of the other Senju have opted to wear armor mesh under their formal clothes, but Tobirama is too high ranking to get away with it. There's too much of a risk of being called untrusting, of being accused of planning some kind of attack. Which is a shame, because he knows what everyone will discover today, and has no real idea what the reactions will be. A layer of armor, however fine, would soothe his nerves but he can't even have that.
"Aw, Tobi don't be nervous, you could meet your soulmate today!" Hashirama crows, circling in from the side like a vulture and reaching over to ruffle his hair. Tobirama swats the hand away, but they just wander downwards to tug at his sleeves instead.
Tobirama wishes the lie would come easily to his lips. The admonishment that he is unlikely to have a soulmate, much less find them. He's said as much before. Now all that comes out is a flat, "And what would you do if I did?"
Hashirama hums, unconcerned, "Make sure they treat you right, of course!"
Tobirama can only sigh and step back to stop his brother from mussing up his appearance any more. Hashirama doesn't know what's about to happen, and Tobirama sees as little point in telling him now as he did before. If that man had appeared before him on the battlefield, if he had threatened his clanmates, the fact that they are soulmates would not have stopped Tobirama from doing his duty. There was no reason for him to know; knowing what they do now about what the Uchiha wrongly believed the Senju to do to their soulmates (kidnapping them, holding them hostage, grafting their bones into themselves, among other things), it was for the best. Hashirama would likely have tried to make peace over it, and it would have gone over poorly. To say the least.
His brother isn't participating in the ceremony himself -- his natural regeneration prevents him from finding his soulmate, and he's betrothed, besides -- so it will be Tobirama who is leading the Senju side.
The Nara, Akimichi, and Yamanka are the only shinobi clans Tobirama knows who do what they are about to with people outside their own clans, and those three only within their alliance. They have some sort of shared festival where each clan brings all their members who have come of age that year to mingle and meet with each other. That is entirely too easy-going for the atmosphere between the Senju and the Uchiha, however. They've been forced to go with the way civilian nobles do it -- a long line of petitioners and a shallow cut on the back of everyone's hand.
"It's almost time. If someone does match, don't cause a scene, would you?" Tobirama asks, though he knows its useless.
Hashirama huffs, but lets him go, breaking off to go sit with the observers as they arrive at the Aburame pavilion they've been using as the stage for peace talks. Senju and Uchiha stand facing each other, one to one. It's closer to an artist's rendition of a battlefield than a real one and yet Tobirama finds himself falling into something like battle-calm. It's easier than dealing with every other emotion churning in his chest.
It's not quite coincidence that Tobirama sees him again, but he'll only have the option to blame cosmic forces for it after the fact.
Sometimes, when there aren’t any suitable missions for him, as often happens in the winter, Tobirama will go out and supplement the clan's coffers by hunting bounties. This one in particular is a group of rogue nin with a particularly high profile and high price tag. He'd only meant to scout them out and gather some information, but he's still some ways away when he recognizes the chakra that's being thrown about as a fight.
Three Uchiha, one signature he vaguely recognizes, but he shouldn't be surprised at that clan's presence. He's come across them hunting bounties before, and they come down especially hard on anyone who dares to kidnap children, which these outlaws have done.
Tobirama doesn't quicken his pace. No matter which side comes out on top he'll be dealing with someone who's already worn out from fighting, which will hopefully give him an opportunity to do things quickly and easily. Not that he's ever so lucky. He keeps a mental eye on the situation as he approaches -- the fighting as somehow ferocious and defensive all at once. They're fighting over something or -- someone. Closer now, he stops and sharpens his sensing just in time feel one of the Uchiha signatures move in a sudden burst and snatch a bundle of chakra so small it had been hidden by the other much larger chakra signatures around it.
A child. Quite probably an Uchiha child, if the burgeoning fire nature is any indication. Tobirama curses -- he's not willing to let this be a failure, but that complicates things quite a bit.
Or -- simplifies them, perhaps, in a way he's not entirely certain that he likes. The Uchiha grab a second child, and the signature he vaguely recognizes stays behind to cover the retreat of the others. There have been casualties already, everyone left on the field is injured and flagging, and Tobirama speeds up to see what advantage he can take.
He arrives at the moment the remaining Uchiha dispatches the final outlaw with a rather brutal slash to the throat. It's the man who chose not to fight his kin all those months ago, now splattered with blood, panting and trembling, hair pulled loose from it's tie. He holds his kunai out for a beat, then two, before he groans and stumbles to slump against the roots of a tree. Tobirama continues to observe for a long moment but his breathing does not even out, nor does he uncurl -- or even seem to notice when Tobirama silently leaps down to take a closer look at the scene.
A bit of prodding proves that the rogue nin are well and dead. Tobirama has no qualms about storing the bodies and claiming the bounty for himself. He won't even have to fight the Uchiha to do it, which was exactly what he'd been hoping for, but --
The man shudders and curls in on himself, chakra signature wavering. He's injured, possibly badly enough that he won't survive without help.
It's not Tobirama's concern. It isn't. He could and should just leave the man to his fate, or give him a swift death if he must get involved.
…And when he does die, there will be one less person in the world who's able to look at an enemy and decide not to kill them for the act of existing, and that much less of a chance of peace happening in his lifetime, if it can happen at all.
Damn it.
"Uchiha." He calls. The man goes stiff, scrabbles halfway back to standing before his legs give out. A kunai is thrown his direction -- surprisingly accurate, now that Tobirama can see how one eye is shut and bleeding from a wound over the lid, and the other is red with a fast spinning sharingan, flicking about wildly without actually focusing on anything.
"I don't intend to hurt you." He offers, "Can you see?"
The mans defensive posture lowers by a fraction. He must know how little of a fight he can put up at the moment, but for some shinobi, for Uchiha especially, it's often better to ensure they die instead of allowing themselves to be captured. But he must have guessed correctly. This Uchiha can't see him and recognize him as an enemy, because he doesn't immediately turn his blade on himself.
"No." He says, voice rough but even, "Poison, I think."
If these shinobi were prepared to kidnap Uchiha children it's no surprise that they have such a thing, but he doubts they were willing to use something that would permanently damage a sharingan when they could get a hefty sum for a working eye. It's probably temporary, and so…
"If you allow me, I can treat your wounds enough for you to get home." Leave him living but not able to come to the battlefield, it will be the best compromise Tobirama can get.
The man hesitates, raised hand trembling ever so slightly.
"…Who are you?"
"Irrelevant. The offer stands."
There is a long moment of silence, and Tobirama takes the opportunity to unroll his own body storage scroll and seal the remains of the dead shinobi inside. The Uchiha stiffens, either at the surge of chakra or the sound of displaced air.
"Shinobi, then." He murmurs. Then he tips back his head with a sigh, sliding down to the ground once more. "…Fine. But I'm not dropping the kunai. Touch my face and it's getting stabbed into the first fleshy bit I can find."
"Fair enough." Tobirama agrees. He wont need to, to make sure the man lives. He makes sure to make his steps audible as he approaches, kneeling down an arms length away and ready to catch any attempt at a surprise attack.
"Injuries?"
The Uchiha thins his lips, but he must recognize the tone -- a captain asking for a report.
"Cut on the left thigh, stab wound in the arm which is where the poison entered. Everything else you can touch is superficial."
Probably more than that -- injured ribs if the way his other arm is curled around his side is any indication, and almost certainly chakra exhaustion, but he doesn't need to deal with those.
"…Alright. I'm going to treat your leg first."
The man grunts in ascent, and extends the limb, only twitching slightly when Tobirama's picks at the fabric to pull it away from the wound. It would have been a slow death; blind, alone and bleeding out over the course of hours had Tobirama left him here.
A healing jutsu will take too much focus when he has to worry about his patient stabbing, and would probably reveal too much about his identity anyways. He pauses, reminds himself that the man he's helping cannot see, and says, "I'm going to take out first aid supplies."
An exhale. "Okay."
Another, smaller sealing scroll is rolled out.
"Antiseptic first." Tobirama explains, pouring the clear liquid onto a clean patch of gauze. "Can I give you stitches?"
"…Do I need them to survive?"
"If you need to walk back, then yes. You can probably forgo them for the moment if you're planning on staying put."
A flinch and a hiss as Tobirama goes to clean the wound. Thoroughly -- no point in doing all this if he's only going to die of infection later. The Uchiha is quiet with consideration for a long moment.
Then Tobirama's bare fingers graze skin, and they both jerk in surprise.
People say a lot of things about soulbonds. There's so many wildly disparate theories on what they really are and how they feel that Tobirama had long since taken to dismissing the whole concept out of hand, but there's one element every tale has in common.
Between the people involved, the feeling of a soulbond is unmistakable for anything else.
The kunai in the Uchiha's hand clatters to the ground. Sightless eyes widen and there is complete stillness.
"You --" He starts. Stops. "You're --"
Tobirama's thoughts have completely derailed. They're running too fast to keep up with and only serving to tangle themselves into useless knots.
The Uchiha lurches forward, catching Tobirama by the sleeve for a brief moment before he yanks himself away.
"Don’t -- Please don't go." The mans voice has gone raw and shaky. "You felt that too, didn't you?"
Tobirama should leave.
...But he can't leave.
He's panicking, he realizes, distant from himself, and forces himself into a breathing exercise to cut that shit out.
"It would seem I have the ability to heal all of your injuries." He knows his voice has taken on that flat, cold tone that Hashirama hates so much, but it's the only way he's going to be able to get out words right now with his chest so tight, "If you want that, you'll have to turn around and let me cover your eyes."
He shouldn't even offer but -- he's curious, and more than that it feels right, in an unexplainable way that he knows is going to bother him for months to come.
"What?" The Uchiha manages to look aghast even with his working eye vacant. He reaches out again, and finding nothing lets his hand drop uselessly, "You don't want me to know who you are."
It's as much an accusation as it is a question.
"No, I don't." Tobirama snaps, "I don't know what you think this is, but believe me when I say it is a tragedy."
Silence. A frown. Then, "Maybe. But not for me. Not right now."
Yes, this probably would seem like some kind of divine intervention to a man who would have otherwise died.
"Well, will you let me behind you right now?" Tobirama asks tersely. The Uchiha's expression steels and… He nods. The man maneuvers himself on shaky arms to turn and leave his back open. It's stupidly trusting, but Tobirama supposes that it's no more foolish than letting him get close in the first place.
Tobirama breathes in. Breathes out. Kneels behind him and glances at the medical supplies still laid on their scroll. Logic would dictate that he blindfold the man, but this strange new instinct insists that soothing over the wounds with his own hands will be the best way to heal them.
He doesn't give warning -- Tobirama reaches around and covers the Uchiha's eyes with one hand. The man gives a full body flinch, jabs an elbow into his armor -- all expected -- but Tobirama catches him around the waist before he can pull away.
"I don't want your eyes." He hisses, "Calm yourself, Uchiha."
And he does. The man gives a shaky high pitched wine and drops his arms again, going nearly boneless in Tobirama's grip. If he's feeling anything like the sensation tingling through Tobirama's fingers and up his arm, it's not surprising. Physically it's somehow like the best parts of being cool in the summer and warm in the winter, but more than that, Tobirama now understands why poets and artists have such a hard time describing it. It's a feeling of rightness, of content, of understanding, of finding something he hadn't known to look for and feeling settled when he'd never even been troubled.
(Irony of his life, the unexplained correctness of the feeling will in fact unsettle him the more he thinks on it without getting answers).
Now that the Uchiha isn't struggling it's easy to let his other hand drop to the wound on his thigh. He rests his fingers over it and watches with rapt attention over the man's shoulder as the wound stitches itself closed before his eyes, faster and cleaner than even the most skilled iryo-justu user.
He wonders if the feeling is different for the other man, if the sensation of wounds closing and bruises fading is a nice one. It must be -- because once the wound on his thigh is gone, a hand drops on his and pulls it up -- under the Uchiha's battle coat and the clothes beneath it to bare skin. It's an incredibly compromising situation to be in with a stranger, much less an enemy, but the bond buzzing beneath his skin feels is more intimate than any physical contact could ever be so he pays it no mind.
His hand comes to rest on ribs -- bruised and cracked, Tobirama somehow knows just from his fingers on them. The Uchiha gives a shaky sigh and lets nearly all of his weight rest on Tobirama, giving no hint of protest when after an indeterminable amount of time he moves his hand up to the stabbed shoulder, and then elsewhere on the hunt for those other so-called superficial wounds. An experimental sweep of his thumb on the hand still covering the man's eyes reveals that the wound there is gone, too. If the healing as complete there as it has been everywhere else, he'll likely even retain the use of both of his eyes.
"Did it cleanse the poison, too?" He asks, voice low despite there being no one around to hear but the two of them. But his voice breaks the moment, regardless, and the Uchiha stiffens, taking some of his weight back to himself.
"…It feels like it."
He'd like to uncover his eyes and know for sure, but even with the bond thrumming in his veins Tobirama doesn't have enough trust in him to do that. If he were in the other man's place, he knows he'd turn and try and get a glimpse, no matter what he was asked.
"Good." He replies, reclaiming his hand from underneath clothing to start forming hand signs. It's a medical technique, only useful at close range, and it won't keep a shinobi down for more than a minute, but Tobirama is called the fastest in Fire Country for good reason. It'll be more than enough time for him.
The man must have some hint at what's coming because he shifts again -- not enough to free his eyes from under Tobirama's hand, but close -- and asks, "Are we ever going to meet again?"
Tobirama doesn't answer, because the answer is almost certainly yes.
Tobirama stares down at Madara's ungloved hand. Somehow, he hadn't expected his nails to be well kept but -- well. They are. The thin red line of a cut and the beads of welling blood are the only thing that mar it.
"What?" Madara growls at him.
"Your hands look nicer than I expected." Tobirama replies truthfully. It's technically a compliment, but Madara still blusters and huffs at him as Tobirama takes and awkward half step to shake hands with the next person in line. It's Izuna, who for once has nothing to say, expression pinched and severe. He can't be worrying about Tobirama being his soulmate -- if that were true they would have figured it out long, long ago -- so it's something else. For once, Tobirama deems it unimportant. Everyone will have something else to focus on soon enough.
After that come faces Tobirama is less familiar with -- not that he really ever familiarized himself with Uchiha faces, since that's where their eyes are. People who's names he does not know on sigh. They greet him with their own name, and he gives his in return, though from the looks he receives he sincerely doubts that it's needed.
Still, he stays courteous, and shakes hands, and does not let himself wonder if his soulmate had decided not to show up, after all. If he had any suspicion at all of who he might be, he might not have wanted it revealed that his soulmate is one of the most hated men in his clan. Tobirama wouldn't blame him.
It's been nearly half an hour, and the people he has yet to greet are a scant few when --
"Hikaku." A voice he recognizes, a battle coat his hands have been under, the first set of eyes he's been willing to meet all afternoon, and they meet his in return with confidence.
"Tobirama." He answers, and shakes his soulmate's hand the same as he has everyone else's.
(A wound closing doesn't actually feel any different, at least not one this small. But the sudden absence of pain is an interesting sensation in it's own way.)
A murmur goes up among everyone gathered as the two of them stay standing still when the lines would have otherwise moved. They don't so much as glance down at their linked hands. Between the two of them, the bond is obvious enough.
"You don't seem surprised." He says, quiet. Again, the bond feels like something he hadn't known he was missing, making the moment feel like one of those dramatic scenes in books when everyone else fades away. Tobirama just accepts it, knowing that this is likely the closest thing to privacy they're going to have for weeks now that their bond had been revealed.
"I had a few theories. And some hope." The man, the Uchiha, Hikaku, replies, "If I answer your questions, do you promise not to run away again?"
"…For now." He agrees. He might still run, if not from his soulmate, then from his clan head and heir, and quite possibly his own brother who has started to make noise as well. But he already knows it -- he can run away all he likes, he's going to be drawn back, some way or another.
(And if that's how it is, shouldn't he at least try to have a good time with it?)
The way they get to peace feels like it's too ridiculous to go into history books, but the Uchiha will remember the truth of it.
Hikaku had been far away from the scene -- anyone smart keeps well apart from Madara and Hashirama -- but he'll have seen four different angles on what happened before the end of the day.
Tobirama disappears, does something faster than a sharingan can see, and his sword is in Izuna's side. It's… A bad wound, a bloody one and Madara is so clearly devastated to see it.
"Peace, Madara." Hashirama begs, "Please. We can heal him!"
"I don't want your fucking fraud of a soulbond anywhere near me!" Izuna hisses. Both Senju freeze. They look honestly, genuinely, stunned.
"Our what?" Tobirama asks, icy. And rhetorically, because he immediately turns to his brother to say, "Anija. Hold Madara back."
(The sharingan only records visual memory perfectly. Tobirama's voice is a little different in every memory, but something about it prickles in the back of Hikaku's mind).
"Tobi--"
"I'm going to heal him."
Madara and Izuna both protest, but with a blinding grin Hashirama turns and pulls roots out of the ground to separate Madara from his brother. Madara fights back with a desperate, raging cry, burning them away immediately but unable to go too far without risking hurting his brother further. Tobirama is on Izuna again with that same impossible speed and a long string of hand signs that have his hands glowing green.
Izuna tries to struggle away, but Tobirama bats away his sword and pins him down by the shoulders.
"Fuck off!" Izuna wheezes, trying and failing to buck him off, "Damn it, get off me!"
Tobirama has Izuna under him for nearly a full minute, during which he does not speak despite Izuna's increasingly desperate attempts to escape, or the absolute destruction Madara is wreaking around him.
When Madara finally breaks through Hashirama's defenses, Tobirama is gone in another flas, standing back behind his brother who has retreated to a distance. Tobirama is visibly tired, but Madara doesn't capitalize on it, looking to Izuna first, who is scrabbling to sit up.
The wound in his side has been healed and closed up -- something that might have killed him now looks like it might only take him a few weeks to recover from.
"You tell me if that felt anything like a soulbond." Tobirama snarls, "Because it shouldn't."
Izuna thins his lips and doesn't respond, but that's answer enough.
"Can we please stop with the fighting, now?" Hashirama interjects hands raised, "Or are we going to have to do this all over again?"
Madara glances down at Izuna, looking pained, and Izuna… Still doesn't respond -- doesn't argue even when everyone knows he wants to. A hand lingers over his wound, and he bows his head.
The clan will murmur among themselves that its good that he was able to accept defeat even that gracefully. Privately, Hikaku will wonder if Izuna did it, at least in part, for him. For his soulmate who's probably a Senju, who he'll probably never meet again as long as they're fighting.
(Much later, he'll wonder if Tobirama didn't do it for him, too).
"An easy way to save on time and resources is to not start fights where there's no need for one." He tells Asahi. It's the boy's first mission that's not by and for the clan itself. He's not yet used to having people not care that they saw some Senju, and he's not quite aware that getting into a fight for personal reasons while on a mission will make his clan seem unprofessional, "They haven't even seen us. Let's go."
Asahi scowls, and Jun sneers, but Hikaku is the captain on this mission so they'll listen to him even if they don't agree, which is good because Hikaku would really rather not take a detour to kill some shinobi who are basically still kids.
It's just sensible, to him. Advice that he offers every time he can, even if it's rarely taken. So he doesn't even think twice about having said it. He just leads his team on to their objective and lets it fall from his mind, unaware of just who had been really listening.
He'd only had time for a brief moment of boiling anger before having to crush it down. Bloodline thieves do not target the Uchiha often, because those that do find themselves tracked to the ends of the earth and punished without mercy.
(Hikaku doesn’t favor violence, but this is one case where he embraces it wholeheartedly).
These ones had been clever at least, laying out false trails and scattering their pursuers. But the Uchiha deal with smarter, faster, stronger opponents every day. It had only caused the most minor of delays, and now Hikaku and the rest of his squad are nearly on them.
It's five to three. Bad odds -- or it would be if the first thing Hikaku does on seeing one of them without a squirming bag in their arms wasn't to pull up two walls of earth and slam them together. Multiple sickening cracks that Hikaku pays no mind to as he pulls the earth down and traps the body there. Living or not doesn't matter too much at the moment because he doubts they'll be moving much either way.
No Senju would have let themselves be so caught of guard, he thinks dispassionately. They really are pathetic.
But pathetic or not, two of the remaining ones still have children in their arms, and a third has a genjutsu of one that Hikaku has already seen through.
He tosses out a handful of kunai, the wires attached forming a barrier that should slow any chance at fleeing enough to make it a non-option.
The Uchiha policy for dealing with bloodline thieves is to strike them fast and brutal. Give them no time to threaten hostages, no time to negotiate. Take back what's been stolen, make sure they're safe, and punishment can come afterwards if there are any survivors to take it.
His squadmate nails a kunai in a the meat of a thieves' shoulder, hitting just the right spot to deaden the arm. His third tries the same, and when it's blocked jumps in close to snatch the stolen child away in a taijutsu fight. Hikaku supports from the back-line, softening dirt and making spikes of earth in turn. Two of the thieves decide he's the biggest threat and team up to go after him. Another stupid move -- if they want any chance of getting out of this alive, they should make sure they keep a hand on the kids. Hikaku is plenty capable of holding them off while his squad presses their advantage.
He might be tired of always fighting with the Senju, but if there's a silver lining to it, it's that it's given Hikaku much more combat experience than the average shinobi. Even two on one, even though one of them is wielding a wicked long nine ring sword that gives him a dangerous amount of reach its easy work for Hikaku to dodge between their blows, to distract them, even to dance close enough to grab an arm and wrench it out of it's socket.
It's only when one of his team-mates darts past -- their target down, shivering child clutched in their arms, do the bloodline thieves realize their mistake. One shouts, tries to break away, but Hikaku blocks the move, gets in front of them, pushes them back. Takes a stab to the arm for it, and it hurts, but it's not hindering his movement so it doesn't matter. Getting the kids back is more important, always.
Even as his vision starts to dim and constrict, he doesn't let up. He can feel the unnatural heat and pain twisting down his veins with every beat of his heart. Poison. It's not surprising, really, though if it's the kind he thinks it is, there's going to have to be an investigation about it, since as far as Hikaku knows they've managed to wipe the recipe for anything that can blind so quickly and effectively from existence.
He hopes it's not permanent, but he has no time to panic about that, now.
He trades the blow back for one that sounds like it properly shattered his opponent's jaw, and sends them reeling back so far that his remaining squadmate has an opening to bury their sword in a spine.
A breath, the outlaw still holding a child shouts something unintelligible and raises their arm, long knife glinting with the threat.
Hikaku isn't as fast as Izuna, but he can put on a decent burst of speed when he needs to. He gets in close enough to catch the bloodline thief by the wrist and shoves his own kunai through their eye. Unsteady with poison as he's quickly becoming, the man's jerky deathblow catches him across the face, but it hardly feels like more than a sting at the moment, and his vision is so reduced already that it hardly makes a difference. He can still feel his chakra pulsing in the eye, so it's likely not majorly damaged.
Gentle as he can he pulls the bag from his grip, fishing out another kunai to cut the knot. As soon as she's exposed to the air, the two year old in his arm wails.
"Taichou--" His squadmate calls, voice high and panicked. They'd shifted over to fight the one with the long sword; the one here who actually appears to have some skill as far as Hikaku can see. Which -- isn't much, his vision has dimmed so much that if his sharingan weren't still spinning he'd be totally blind. As it is, everything is washed out colors and blurred edges, but that's enough.
He switches place with his clan mate, passing over the child smoothly; signs cover, retreat, though he doesn't really have to. Everyone here knows the protocol in situations like these. The thief doesn't dare turn their back on him to give chase.
He was unfortunately right in his assessment. A few traded blows reveals that the one with the sword is actually skilled, and with his vision becoming near useless, Hikaku makes a choice.
He gets in close in a single surge, ducks under his enemies guard. Another trade, this time the bite of a sword into his thigh, and, yeah, that that one is bad, but it's worth it, because he digs his kunai into the soft flesh of exposed throat and pulls it deep enough to sever the wind pipe. His enemy goes down.
Hikaku waits. Listens to the gurgle of a dying man until it's over, and not letting himself panic. He'd done what he'd needed to do to end the fight before he went totally blind, but his sight has totally given out, now, and the pain of the poison in the blood is only increasing in intensity. He finds that he can't regulate his breathing, can still only get air through heavy panting even as he tries to calm himself. But he's not attacked again, at least, and if there were someone waiting they would have taken advantage by now. If he plays this right, and the poison isn't something lethal, he might just manage to survive this.
He reaches out blindly until he feels a tree to put his weight on, and without his input his whole body slumps down to lean against it. He knows he needs to treat his wounds as best he can, to staunch the bleeding, but the pain of poison in his bloodstream is only getting worse as the adrenaline fades. It's bad enough that it's hard to think through, makes his fingers stiff and uncooperative as he tries to assess the damage to his face and leg. Or maybe that's the stab wound.
"Uchiha."
A voice, low and far, far to close. Hikaku's body moves entirely on instinct. Kunai thrown at the sound, body as close to standing as he can get it for the moment before his legs give out and send him crashing back to the forest floor. Which was a mistake, he realizes a moment later, because he only has weapon one left, now, and he'll likely need that to take out his own eyes before the can be stolen.
His shot didn't land, obviously, because after a moment the voice says. "I don't intend to hurt you. Can you see?"
Hikaku stills for a moment, shock allowing for bit of clarity. He could lie, but there's hardly a point to it. Whoever this is, they must see the state he's in. How easily he would be to overpower. There's no reason for them to try and let themself be known or to try and lower Hikaku's guard if they meant him harm -- if they wanted his life or his eyes, they could just take them.
"No." He admits. "Poison, I think."
"If you allow me, I can treat your wounds enough for you to get home."
What? Why? Why bother unless you were an ally of the Uchiha or looking to curry their favor? Something about the dispassionate way the voice is addressing him makes him think this isn't an offer made out of the kindness of this stranger's heart.
"Who are you?"
"Irrelevant." The answer comes immediately, "The offer stands."
That's really not true, and Hikaku would very much like to know who they are, but right now he knows he needs to pick his battles -- he can feel the haze of pain creeping up on him and muddling his thoughts, again.
Ears straining for a response, he doesn't miss the quiet whoosh of displaced air as... dead bodies are pulled into a sealing scroll, it sounds like.
"Shinobi, then." He mutters to himself. Probably a bounty hunter. Maybe one who feels a bit of guilt over the fact that he's taking the kills that Hikaku made and is trying to pay it back by not leaving him to die?
Well, Hikaku will take it if he gets out alive and with his eyes.
"…Fine. But I'm not dropping the kunai. Touch my face and it's getting stabbed into the first fleshy bit I can find."
"Fair enough." Audible footsteps as the voice's owner approaches. "Injuries?"
Yeah, definitely a shinobi, and probably one who orders others around, too.
"Cut on the left thigh, stab wound in the arm which is where the poison entered. Everything else you can touch is superficial."
There's also the matter of the poison itself, but there's only so much any given person will have in their field kit for dealing with that. Hikaku has managed to get his breathing closer to something like normal, but his heart is still thundering hard in his chest and he doesn't think it has to do with adrenaline, anymore.
"…Alright. I'm going to treat your leg first."
Hikaku tries to say agree but when he extends his leg, his tongue gets twisted with the pain and all that comes out is a grunt. He feels the fabric around his thigh wound being pulled at, twitching as they unstick it from the tacky blood there.
"I'm going to take out first aid supplies." The stranger says. Hikaku supposes he should appreciate the clear communication when he can't see, but a part of him wishes this person would just get it done with.
A controlled breath, in and out, not that that's helping any with his heart rate. "Okay."
"Antiseptic first. Can I give you stitches?"
Ah. Hikaku wasn't sure if it was that bad or not. But he still would really rather not have someone he doesn't know sticking needles into him if he can help it.
"…Do I need them to survive?"
"If you need to walk back, then yes. You can probably forgo them for the moment if you're planning on staying put."
The strange shinobi doesn't wait for him to answer, Hikaku can't stop a whole body flinch at the feeling on antiseptic on the wound. They aren't nice about cleaning it and Hikaku curls his fingers into the bark of the roots under him. The pain is sharp compared to the choking feeling of the poison in this blood. He can handle it-- it's not like he asking for good bedside manner, just to get out of this alive.
Then there's the sensation of cool fingers on the his skin, and the rest of the world stops.
The pain and the fear are washed away, and for the instant that the touch lasts, Hikaku knows that he's safe. That fate has brought his soulmate to him in his hour of need, that the universe hasn't forgotten him.
He's felt shadows of what a soulbond feels like, in memories passed down through the clan, but it doesn't hold a candle to the real thing. If he weren't already convinced, the way even that tiny moment of contact has shaken off the haze of pain.
Though that may just be the shock. His already numb fingers go boneless and his last kunai clatters to the ground, uncommented on.
"You --" You're my soulmate. He tries to say, though there's no reason to state the obvious. You're the one for me, I already know it. "You're --"
The stranger -- his soulmate -- doesn't respond, and Hikaku reaches out, grabbing for anything, just trying to make sure he's still there, that he isn't actually dying and his brain hasn't conjured up a hallucination to comfort him in his final moment. His fingers graze fabric, but that, too is swiftly pulled away from him.
"Don’t -- Please don't go." He begs. Chokes. They're surprised, he's sure. A soulbond is frightening, doubly so for shinobi, who aren't easy to give away trust, but it's also something so good, couldn't they feel it? "You felt that too, didn't you?"
They can't leave, not now. If they did Hikaku would --
Well, not to be dramatic, but if they left now, he would probably die.
"It would seem I have the ability to heal all of your injuries." The stranger's voice has gone cold and sharp compared to the indifference from before. It's tight with anger, maybe, or maybe, covering for surprise and fear. "If you want that, you'll have to turn around and let me cover your eyes."
"…What?" His immediate instinct is to say no, because someone being his soulmate doesn't mean he's immediately willing to let someone near his eyes, cosmic forces be damned. But -- If his soulmate wanted them, they could have taken them already. They'd tried to heal him before they knew what they were, so this is something else. It must be-- "You don't want me to know who you are."
"No, I don't." His soulmate hisses, "I don't know what you think this is, but believe me when I say it is a tragedy."
The pain Hikaku feels blooming in his chest probably doesn't have to do with the poison still in his system. They don't--
They don't even know each other, not really, but they belong to each other. He has no clue why his soulmate wants to hide this from him, but it's not a tragedy, not yet. Not while he still lives and his soulmate is still here. "Maybe." Hikaku breathes, "But not for me. Not right now."
"Well, will you let me behind you right now?" His soulmate asks in that same cold tone. Challenging. But the thing is, Hikaku is going to let him. Is even going to let his useless eyes be covered, because he's going to use the opportunity not only to gather as much information as he can, but to selfishly soak in his soulbond for as long as possible. If they keep feeling it, they'll understand.
He nods, shakily pulling adjusting himself until his back is facing where he last heard his soulmate's voice. Ears as sharp as he can make them, Hikaku picks out the rustle of fabric and the creak of armor before there's a warmth at his back. Hikaku keeps himself still, takes in the salt-tang of sweat and the faint trances of something woody.
Then there's a weight over his face, pressing into the wound there, rough and warm. Hikaku's body reacts entirely on instinct, body jerking, elbow meeting something hard, fingers trying and failing to scramble for the kunai he'd dropped.
"I don't want your eyes." His soulmate's breath is warm on his cheek, no matter how icy their tone, "Calm yourself, Uchiha."
Hikaku was planning on it anyways, but as the bond settles between them it's like his brain starts the process of resetting itself. His pain and worry fades away under the certain knowledge that he really doesn't want to be any place else but this, in his soulmates arms, safe, despite it all.
Sensation returns after that. The bond, a shivery pleasantness like stretching after a good long sleep, the slow recede of the pain in his leg and eye, his blood almost feels like it's fizzing, but it's not unpleasant. His head is pillowed one something soft, and his soulmate has callouses on their hands like they write just as much as they fight.
He hardly thinks about what he might be implying when he pulls his that hand under his clothes. He means to address the stab wound next, but he thinks he might just want his soulmate's hands on him in any way he can get them.
Those wonderful fingers pause on his ribs, a hurt Hikaku had forgotten he had in the midst of everything else. A bad turn on his last mission had left them hurt, and he'd been on orders to take it easy for a few weeks but that had hardly mattered in the face of bloodline theft.
He should probe for more information. A name, even a fake one, a reason for the tragedy, but Hikaku's tongue is heavy with contentment and exhaustion and he doesn't want to interrupt the feeling of those hands on his skin. His mind drifts. How long has it been since someone has just… Held him like this? Not since he was a child. He hadn't realized he missed it so much.
"Did it cleanse the poison, too?" His soulmate asks, all too soon. Hikaku can sense the end coming already. He feels good, great, even, except that he could use a nap, but when couldn't he?
"…It feels like it." Hikaku admits. The pain in his blood is gone, now, and his heartbeat had settled into something steady, though it's picking up again now.
"Good." The hand on his chest leaves him, the muscles he can feel tense. Hikaku sits up, half tries to turn -- just a glimpse a hint -- that's all he wants, but his soulmate's hand over his eyes clamps down tighter.
Fine -- that's fine. He doesn't have much to go on, but it's enough. It'll have to be.
"Are we ever going to meet again?" He asks, breathless.
If his soulmate answers, Hikaku doesn't hear it.
Hikaku hides a frown in his behind mantle, back rigid against the wall. Arranged marriage to cement peace, that's what Hashirama had said their elders suggested. The Uchiha elders -- those that Madara was bothering with the opinions of, anyways -- had brought up the same idea.
It's --
Well, it's practical. There is that.
It's just that it'll have to be high status, and Hashirama is betrothed already, according to their spy network. Tobirama, then, is the next best option but he's...
"Before we go through the trouble of all that," Izuna interrupts smoothly, "Why don't we see if there's any soulmates between our clans? Both sides will have to respect a soul bond."
Hikaku almost makes a sound, almost storms over to go throttle Izuna in front of everyone present. Is this his an idea of an apology?
Across the room, Tobirama goes still as a statue, and Hikaku has to force his sharingan down despite how badly he wants to see if his pulse is hammering as fast as his own. The pale as moon Senju heir does not raise a word against the idea, even though he's had no issue doing so with other things in the past.
That's -- that's practically as good as --
Fine, alright.
A few more stunts like this and he'll probably end up forgiving Izuna after all.
It can't have been more than a few minutes before Hikaku wakes up. Alone, yes, but miraculously uninjured. Proof it wasn't a dream, as are the bloodstains and remains of the fight Hikaku had almost lost.
He's still tired as he pulls himself to his feet, but he's not bone deep exhausted like he should be. He's not dead. He should be thankful and he is, but --
He's lonely. He was before, but he's always been good at pushing that down and away, burying it under work, pretending it's not there. His physical wounds might have been healed, but his brief encounter with his soulmate (his soulmate! he has a soulmate!) has reminded him of the stinging emptiness that always lurks behind his breastbone.
But for once, he has hope, a balm for the pain. Something to look forward too, a soulmate, his soulmate to track down. And question.
What was it that they thought was so tragic, he wonders. The bond itself? They can't have been too put off by the fact that he's an Uchiha when that's so clearly what he is. He walks slowly back towards the compound, conserving the sliver of chakra he has left, mind running in circles.
He hadn't gotten enough information to draw any good conclusions, but his thoughts linger on the little things. The armor, the softness under his head, the writing callouses, all to no conclusion.
He's been walking for little over an hour when the backup squad intercepts him.
"All's well." He flashes his sharingan to each member in turn, "All enemies dead."
But not accounted for, his soulmate had seen to that.
"The children are safe." Is the answer he gets in return, and a tension deflates out of him that Hikaku hadn't quite been aware that he'd been holding.
"Good." He says, and starts walking back. The squad follows him. As they move, curious eyes linger on him, but no one explains.
(Because he looks like he was hurt. Was reported as hurt. But is with them now curiously uninjured.)
He goes straight to the head house to give his report. He knocks on the door and Izuna is the one to answer, to the tune of "Oh thank fuck. You look like a disaster. And you're late for dinner, you know."
"I'm not that late." Hikaku teases, "I couldn't even have watched a theater production in the time I've been gone."
Izuna hisses a reminder to not talk about that and swats and him, and it's…
It's good. Nice. Madara, too lets out an explosive sigh and slumps down in relief when he sees him. No other shinobi in the clan would ever give a report over a meal like this, but Hikaku has been their both of their friends since they were children, and gets special exception in a lot of things.
(It's not that he's alone. But no matter how much he might have wanted them to be, neither Madara or Izuna will ever be his. Not in the way he hadn't known he was missing).
Madara hands him a bowl with entirely too much food like the mother-hen that he is, and they all settle down to listen. There are scowls at his report, especially from Madara who'd been out chasing a false trail, but no surprise, not until he mentions the poison. Both of their expressions darken at that.
"Did you go through their bodies yet?" Izuna asks, "Or is it all in the scroll?"
"…About that." The brothers look up at him with wary surprise. Hikaku hesitates, fingers toying with the tears in his pants, the edges brown with dried blood. "I don’t have the bodies, there was…"
He grimaces, unsure how to convey how important what happened was to him. How much he needs to find his soulmate, how sure he is he'll need their help to do it.
"Maybe it's better I show you?" He tries, uncertain. It' doesn't take much chakra to share memories with a willing participant, and he's recovered enough to manage it. Madara and Izuna share a look at his tone.
"Alright." Madara says after a beat, both of their sharingan spinning to life. Hikaku's does too.
It's not the typical sort of sharing, because Hikaku had been blind at the time. There's none of the crystal clear edges of the truth recorded by a sharingan, instead it's all just sound, sensation, emotion delivered in as potent of a genjutsu as Hikaku can manage at the moment. He relives it too, so he can't see what they think about the poison, or about realizing how close he came to not coming back, nor the offer from a stranger to heal him. He shows them all of it, even the feeling of the soulbond, pale as imitation as he now knows it is. He wants them to know what he knows, so that if they find his soulmate again they won't let them go.
He feels worn when he lets his sharingan fade away.
It's a very mixed reaction, between the two of them. Madara's looks stunned, face blooming scarlet red, while Izuna has gone pale, expression exactly like he'd just tasted a particularly bitter plum.
"Right, well --" Madara recovers first, "Congratulations on having a soulmate. Even if it's one stupid enough to try and steal a bounty from us."
"I… Hope we can waive at least some of the punishment for that?" He asks, waving a hand at himself -- dirty and grimy but wholly healed. Bounty stealing is hardly considered a crime between shinobi anyway; it's more about pride than anything.
"Depends on how nice they want to play it from now on." Madara sounds mostly amused, but Hikaku knows he means it. "…Izuna?"
Izuna is staring down at his food, pensive. The color still hasn't quite returned to his face yet.
"Yeah, I'll look into it." He looks up, with a weak smile, "Congratulations."
…He knows something, and it's something he doesn't like.
"Izuna --" Hikaku starts, but Izuna holds up a hand.
"I just… Want to make sure of some things first. Don't want to say things that aren't true."
That's practically one of the most suspicious answers he could have gotten, at least coming from Izuna. But… It's sensible. A fair request, even if it has Madara frowning, too.
"…Alright." Hikaku agrees. He's dirty and exhausted, anyways. It's not like he'd be going after his soulmate tonight, even if Izuna knows exactly where they are.
There's just something about Tobirama Senju's voice that makes Hikaku think he should recognize it.
To his shame, he doesn't have great memory for things like that -- it's a weak trait many of his clansmen share. He stands guard on the back wall, tying his thoughts into knots every time Tobirama speaks not only over his words, but how they sound.
Maybe he encountered the man in disguise on a mission? It's the only thing he could think of, because any other encounter they might have had likely would have turned into a fight, and he's heard Izuna complain before that Tobirama doesn't 'waste words', because he's got a stick up his ass.
There's an argument, again. It's one of the ridiculous clauses that they'd included to appease some of the more reticent clan members. Trade agreements, in this case not with each other, but for the Senju to agree not to sell their steel and compete with the Uchiha.
"I just think if Uchiha steel is so good there's no need to even include this clause!" Hashirama is saying "It's not like we'd be real competition anyways!"
"The point is to keep you from raising the cost of materials and using it on your subpar garbage." Izuna snarls, halfway to his feet. This particular argument is dear to him -- he makes most of him weapons himself, if he can help it.
Hikaku doesn't hear how it ends up, though, because the next person to speak is Tobirama with a snapped, "Calm yourself, Uchiha."
And, oh.
That's where he's heard that voice before.
It feels like the world drops out from under him, though he thinks he manages to keep his outward appearance steady.
There'd -- there'd been a chance of it, he supposed. Once he figured out that his soulmate was probably from an enemy clan. But --
The person that's meant for him is Tobirama Senju and… And it's….
He can deal with this, he thinks. Maybe it's not the worst thing in the world. If he wanted to, he could list plenty of positive traits (at least they were as long as Tobirama wasn't trying to kill anyone he knew). Maybe he should take as a sign that peace is going to stick.
Hikaku wills the blood to stop rushing so loudly in his ears.
Tobirama Senju is his soulmate. He hasn't mentioned that for some reason, but a lot of the Uchiha are still more than a little jittery about what the Senju might do with theirs, so he can give it a pass. He seems like the kind of man who would refuse to associate with an enemy, soulmate or no, so he must be waiting for peace to be certain before he tries.
…Tobirama Senju had offered to heal his wounds before he knew they were soulmates. Why?
There's a touch on his shoulder, one of the other guards on the wall with him looking at him with concern.
"Hikaku-san?" She says, "They called a recess."
"Of course." He says, somehow managing to keep his legs steady under him. He doesn't put thought into where his feet are taking him until he's found Izuna. Madara is watching his brother rant, seemingly unimpressed with whatever he's saying. He raises an eyebrow at Hikaku's entrance, but he doesn't really pay that any mind either.
Oh. He realizes, I think I'm furious.
If he'd been anyone else, he might have punched Izuna. Hikaku only grabs Izuna by the front of his kimono hauling him up and cutting off his tirade with a yelp.
"You knew." He accuses. Madara has gotten to his feet, but he doesn't interfere, not while Izuna is too stunned to do so himself.
"What?" Chokes Izuna, "Knew what?"
"Tobirama!" Hikaku could shake him. He does, a little, "How long have you known?"
Izuna scowls and doesn't answer. He doesn't pull himself out of Hikaku's grip either. Guilty.
"From the beginning." Hikaku breathes. "I bet you've known from the moment I showed you those memories."
"I wanted to be wrong!"
"Well you weren't!" Hikaku shouts, "You knew, and you kept it from me! He's my soulmate. What gives you the right?"
"Well what would you have done, if you had known?" Izuna challenges, hands coming up to grab at Hikaku's wrists.
"That doesn't matter." Hikaku snaps back, choking around the sting of betrayal. His voice starts to waver, "Do you have any idea --" How much I worried? That I thought I might only meet them once and be alone forever?
He forces himself to stop, to drop Izuna, close his eyes, turn off the sharingan that had at some point wheeled to life.
He yanks himself from Izuna's grip, turns and bows deep to Madara, who hasn't moved a muscle during the whole shouting match. Hikaku wonders if he knew, too, but he'll figure that out later. Right now --
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to excuse myself from the rest of the day's proceedings. Madara-sama."
He doesn't pause to see what the looks on their faces are. He turns away, and they let him go.
He finds Izuna hunched over a desk, frowning down at paperwork in a way he rarely usually does. He glances up as Hikaku enters the room, but the frown only deepens, enough to bring Hikaku pause.
"Trouble?"
Izuna pulls a face and glances down at the papers.
"…Possibly." He admits, "This is, uh -- Well, it's a profile on the bounty hunter who claimed those bloodline thieves."
Hikaku's heart stutters. So, it's probably his soulmate. He tries not to fall over himself as he goes to snatch the paper Izuna holds out for him.
There's really not much. Masculine build and voice, it reads. There's an approximate height and weight that might mean nothing because they could be using a henge. A list of bounties they've turned in before, and the locations.
"…Most of these are in Senju lands." He realizes with a dull pang.
"…Yeah." Izuna admits, glancing at him from the corner of his eye, "Probably a Senju or an ally of theirs. But it could still be some random bounty hunter who lives over there!"
The false cheer does not raise the mood. Hikaku takes a long moment to read the sparse bit of information again.
"Why would they save me if they're a Senju?" That's the biggest sticking point, the reason why it's not such an easy thing to categorize. If that's true they should have killed him, or left him to die. Or even then, once they figured out that they were soulmates-- "If they're a Senju, why am I not locked away in some dungeon right now being forced to heal my soulmate?"
Because that's what the Senju do, everyone knows it. Or at least it's easy to believe, and no one ever tries to disprove it because Senju are the enemy. They capture their soulmates and twist their bonds to heal their shinobi, and Hashirama Senju stole his soulmate's bones and grafted them into himself so he could heal any time, anywhere.
Hikaku never really put much stock into the rumors because they were ridiculous, and because however the Senju achieved their healing didn't really matter, beyond the fact that they did it. But now here he is, having to think about it.
A tragedy, his soulmate had called it, and spirits above, had his soulmate left him there to protect him from their own clan?
"Why --" He croaks, but he doesn't even know what he's trying to ask, not really.
"I don't know." Izuna answers.
Hikaku watches the line form, counting the numbers on each side. He stands as many spaces from Tobirama Senju as he can manage.
It's not that he's trying to delay it. In fact he'd rather get it done with right away, but for some reason his soulmate has decided to use this as the method to announce to the world what they are, and not knowing his reasons Hikaku will oblige.
Okay, maybe he's hoping Tobirama will sweat about it, at least a little. But besides that, he doesn't want to deny any other soulmates the chance to meet, slim as it may be.
Izuna still won't quite look at him, but before they'd gone out Madara had given him a pat on the back and told him, only half joking, that this meant he was in charge of managing Tobirama, now. If such a thing were even possible.
(He hadn't known. His best guess had been that his soulmate was a rogue Hatake. But he hadn't really been looking, either).
He hardly even acknowledges the other Senju who's hands he's shaking -- it's not rude considering they're doing the same to him. The cut on the back of his hand itches. He'd make it carelessly, a little deeper than he absolutely had to knowing that it wouldn't be there for long.
Amazingly, despite the tension in the air, nearly everyone has greeted each other without incident. Hikaku takes a step to the left, sees a pale hand, looks up to see red eyes.
"Hikaku." He introduces himself, feeling the familiar callouses and the bond hum back to life as they shake hands. Mine, he knows it beyond all doubt. Now that he feels the bond again, just as strong as it was the first time, he thinks he might no be so worried about just who his soulmate is anymore.
Tobirama is his. He'll figure it, one way or another.