Chapter Text
Izuna waves Hikaku away but can’t find the strength to leave himself. He knows it should be fine, his brother had requested a private audience with his old friend, and there were no two men less likely to kill each other. It doesn’t stop him from feeling like a nervous rabbit, all nervous adrenaline he can’t work off. If Izuna can’t even trust them alone together, perhaps he has been too optimistic about their futures. This is the first time Hashirama is alone with his brother, and although it’s unlikely, it will be his first chance to take revenge. It’s enough to twist him up into knots.
It doesn’t help that Madara had told him nothing about wanting to speak to Hashirama in private. What on earth could he have wanted? (that Izuna couldn’t give him, he tries not to add, tries not to fear that Madara any loyalty towards that old friend would come at the cost of Madara’s relationship with Izuna)
Mito must be having reservations as well because she too stays waiting outside the door. She’s looking away from him, out the window across from them. In profile she looks calm, a touch severe but she must be worried to remain here. ‘She’s worried for Hashirama’s safety?’ Izuna wonders. He tells himself that it probably isn’t an insult to Madara that she feels that way… but he can’t see any other way to interpret it.
“My brother won’t hurt him,” he tells her, and if he sounds defensive it’s only because he never thought this would have to be said out loud.
She turns to him, wide brown eyes that look deep into his. “Perhaps not intentionally. But you cannot deny that they could still break each other. We will be here for them until they have sorted things out.” Mito appears so sincere about this that Izuna thinks he can forgive her for being right.
“Alright,” he says, and looks away from her strange gaze, feeling oddly embarrassed. He had never really realized it, but in all his life, eye-contact was something that was fleeting, a momentary meeting of eyes before frightened gazes looked away in fear. Even allies were afraid of the Sharingan and its powers. Only during undercover missions had Izuna experienced that strange feeling of people meeting his eyes. It always felt like they were looking too deep. But even then, it was because he was playing the part of a stranger. No one would ever try to meet Uchiha Izuna’s eyes, at first because the fan adorning his clothes frightened them away and later, after he had earned that terror in his own name, because they thought they would see death in his red eyes.
He had always scorned them but now he thinks he knows how they felt when they cowered away from his gaze. He can’t bring himself to look back into Mito’s probing eyes. He’s lost in thought when footsteps approach, and he turns to see Hikaku. “Izuna, you are needed. Natsume’s team haven’t completed their mission, they say they need to speak with you at once. Izuna bites his lip faintly. That team had only been on a reconnaissance mission, he wonders what could have brought them home early. He spares a glance back at the closed door.
“You can go, Uchiha san. Hikaku and I will wait for them,” says Mito. He meets her too sharp eyes again and nods gratefully. “Thank you,” At his cousin, he says as sternly as he can, “Stay.” And then walks quickly towards the Uchiha’s temporary mission head-quarters, jogging when he gets out of the building.
He will be so relieved when the joint mission-organization system is up and running, it will be a relief to share these tasks with more people.
Mito and Hikaku finally interrupt the embarrassing scene by peering around the door. Their faces show complete bafflement and Tobirama wishes that Mito could see him so they could share a commiserating look.
Madara pulls away first, withdrawing his hands and rising to his feet. He looks pretty grim, eyes still streaming as he steps away, then quickly turns on his heel and strides out, pushing the door open further and squeezing out.
Tobirama wants to follow him, to berate him for going off script, but he can’t bring himself to. The man had succeeded in their objective, after all. And for all that he had made his brother cry again, Tobirama is quite aware that something significant has just shifted. Things are different this time, and it isn’t just that Izuna is alive at the cost of his own life.
Uchiha Madara has learned humility.
Senju Hashirama has learned caution.
While it’s small consolation for losing his life unnecessarily and possibly wrecking their timeline…it is small consolation. When he looks back up at his brother contemplatively, the dark eyes are shut but the tears have ceased. Mito has taken a seat beside Hashirama, observing silently.
Finally, his brother collects himself and opens his eyes. “Are you alright?” she asks softly, and usually that would be Tobirama’s cue to flounce out of the room, with the naïve certainty that of course Big Brother would be okay, he was just being a cry-baby. But he needs to hear this now, can’t corner Hashirama and demand he tell him what’s on his mind as he usually would, so he steps closer to hear his answer now.
“I will be. I have to be.” He lets out a soft laugh, so short it was a single exhale, and rubs the tears from his eyes. “I just saw the most wonderful thing, Mito. So beautiful…” his voice wavers, but a thread of awe can clearly be heard through it. He reaches out to squeeze her hand. “We just have to make it happen.”
“Does that mean you and Madara will stop slacking off?” she asks, bluntly, but there’s a tilt to her smile that Tobirama can read as complete relief. Hashirama laughs again, and it’s a little stronger this time. Like the right muscles are remembering their function and coming creakily to life.
They’re interrupted by a quick rap on the door, and Toka steps inside. There’s a small, satisfied smile on her face, which widens when she sees Hashirama. Clearly, she too was tired of his brother grieving.
“I have more good news, if you’d like to hear it. Or I can save it up for when we’re in short supply.”
“Do not tease, Toka. What happened?” he asks.
“The Sarutobi have accepted the most recent terms, and their first teams will be arriving in a week’s time.” It was more wonderful news, and quite welcome, Tobirama thinks, after his brother’s day.
Minoru is temporarily in charge of the two teams that will be facilitating the clan’s move to Konoha. Somehow he had expected it to look emptier; the place has already started to look like a village. His shinobi keep eyeing things in surprise. It’s one thing to know that the Uchiha could not always be warlike and dangerous, but it’s entirely another thing to be able to meet their eyes as they smile and escort you to your lodgings.
Sarutobi
Izuna thinks that the most interesting thing about the Sarutobi joining the village was that they had four civilian families with them. Senju and Uchiha tended to go civilian only for child rearing, after retirement, or when there was less need for active shinobi, and even then, they usually kept up with basic training to keep in shape. He wonders if with their example, with the new influx of strong shinobi, some of his clans-people might not choose to do the same.
Uchiha
Touka will not admit it to anyone for the world, but as a child, she had had an immense crush on Sarutobi Chiyori. The clans were on good enough terms to allow for occasional visits, and ever since the first time she’d seen the older woman, she had been impressed by her strength and grace. Even now, the thought of sharing a village with her brings her a flicker of joy she cannot suppress.
Senju
His clan had never been as active in the clan wars as many of the others. They were powerful enough to be dangerous opponents without being aggressive enough for other clans to seek out their destruction. Daisuke had been wary of joining this village, worrying they may be opening themselves to the possibility of conflict. His son, Sasuke, had entreated that he look beyond those fears. Daisuke is an old man, but he can see hope in his children’s eyes so when he is asked to join this mad endeavor, he says yes.
Sarutobi
This time it is easier. Tempers don’t run high, and while the Sarutobi are just as strong and deadly as any of them, there’s a distinct lack of bodies between them; no violent history over the last two decades. They’re welcomed with smiles, and they’re welcomed with relief. The basic machinery of the village is now operational, and it looks. It looks like they will finally succeed.
Konohagakure.
"Madara, stay back a moment," said Hashirama, after the meeting. Izuna glanced at them as he left, but the room cleared out quickly enough. Except for Tobirama, who had been standing by the window who comes over to sit beside Madara now in Izuna’s vacated chair. Hashirama hands over Izuna’s report to Madara, who after a moment to identify it, says in surprise, “I know what happened, he told me. I’ve spoken to Kojirou as well. There’s a three-person team following them until they reach the borders of fire country and they’ll alert us if they appear to double back.”
Hashirama waves it off, “I am aware, one of the team is a Senju, and I had to sign off on it. But this.” He waves at a part of the report but it’s unclear to which part he is referring. “Izuna states that the unaffiliated shinobi they spotted had twin redheads, a blonde, and a blue-haired kunoichi.”
Madara nods, “Yes, and a black-haired kunoichi with green eyes. Why?”
“Because I know that group of shinobi. They’re a group that specializes at one very specific task; kidnapping and killing shinobi children.”
Madara freezes. “We did not subcontract the child-killing out to other parties to appear blameless, Hashirama. Ever since my father died we absolutely never-”
“I know!” There’s something forceful in his voice, and Madara dials down the low-key panic as he realizes that that hadn’t been an accusation. He should be embarrassed for the outburst, but he’s mostly just relieved.
“Honestly,” says Tobirama under his breath.
“Forgive me, how do you know of them? Uchiha intelligence has never caught mention of such a group.”
“My mother was a Hatake. Ever since she died we’ve mostly lost contact, but they warned us a few years ago to be wary of them. It seems they prey particularly on the smaller clans, where children are less well defended.”
That would at least explain why the Uchiha had never seen or heard of them.
“Are the shinobi we’ve sent after them in danger? If they’ve remained undetected we could just send reinforcements.” He’s only just heard about this group but they already disgust him. If they send a large enough force to crush them…
“Actually,” Hashirama says, “I was wondering if you could cover for me here, while I caught up to them and dealt with them myself.”
Madara just stares. Tobirama snaps, “You are a font of imbecilic ideas, brother.” There are so many things Madara wants to know that it takes him a moment to order them.
“The Shimura clan envoys arrive in two days. You want me to cover for you? They’re coming in good faith to meet you!
“And what do you mean by ‘deal with them,’ if it gets out that we are killing shinobi, and not in self-defense, then we’ll be painting a giant target on ourselves. I don’t want to know what would happen if the Nara or Hatake decide that it’s worth their while to wipe us out. They won’t succeed, of course, but our peace would be ruined before we start. And it’s not that I don’t want to wipe out scum like that, because that’s disgusting and they deserve.” Madara stops abruptly when he realizes that Hashirama is grinning at him.
“What is wrong with you?”
“I wasn’t planning to kill them, Madara. Only scare them into not returning near our lands.”
Madara tries to imagine it, Hashirama trapping them in giant vines or trees and scolding them for their behavior. It would be frightening, of course, but as always with Hashirama it would be more of the fear that he’d kill them by accident with his immense power than belief in his actual violent intent. Yes, Hashirama wouldn’t do well at all for such a task.
“I’ll do that. I can be properly frightening.”
Hashirama looks at him dubiously. “You told me yourself all the reasons why we can’t kill them.” Madara feels himself flushing and hears Tobirama laugh from beside him.
“I am as capable of not killing them as you are.” he says, through clenched teeth. Hashirama frowns thoughtfully at his report and shrugs. Madara is going to take that as a ‘Yes Madara is perfectly right again,’ shrug, and not a ‘What the hell, I don’t like them anyway, so I won’t be broken up about it if he does kill them’ shrug. From the snort that sounds from beside him, he suspects that Tobirama chose the other meaning.
Tobirama has been seriously reconsidering his stance on luck ever since his unplanned demise. While the very idea used to make him cringe, he is finding it nearly impossible to attribute anything but Sheer. Dumb. Rotten. Luck. to his current situation. Perhaps it is Madara's own fault, but Tobirama can barely believe this is happening-sweet Hagoromo preserve him.
He follows in chilly, angry silence as three Yashagoro clan children, their eyes wide and panicked, half carry and half drag Madara through the undergrowth. Tobirama only identifies them with the familiar and distinctive clan markings because the Yashagoro had joined Konoha during the second year of his own Hokage-ship. He has never seen these particular children before. That Madara had been taken down by three genin-level children… he would find it hilarious if Madara wasn't so still and pale. Or faintly turning blue.
Helpless and furious about it, Tobirama stomps noiselessly after the four shinobi. He hopes the Uchiha clan-head lives so he can throttle him. The children run as quickly as they can, but it’s obvious that their strength is flagging, especially since they’re trying to take Madara with them. At one point the child with a scar down his cheek stops and bursts into tears. “We aren’t going to get back in time,” he says angrily and rubs at his face with a sleeve almost violently, with that childish disdain for tears even as he fails to collect himself enough to stop crying.
“We have to, and he’s a pretty big shinobi, it probably won’t kill him that fast.” The girl speaking is taller and has lighter hair, though she too has the distinct purple eye-marks framing yellow eyes. It is entirely possible that Madara’s chance of surviving has already dropped too low for him to be salvageable, and Tobirama is fast losing hope when a new shinobi appears out of the forest along with a gust of wind.
“Children!”
What follows is a confused mess as the three children try to explain what had happened, dropping Madara ungraciously on the ground as they crowd the young man who had just arrived, tugging him towards Madara’s prone body.
“-and then there were five of them, and they tried to kill Akurra-”
“- just came out of nowhere and killed them all - ”
“- We only were trying to gather the wild persimmons – ”
“Ren stabbed him with the Elapid toxin senbon!” the youngest shrieks then, clearly done with the other two’s incoherent explanation. It shocks the other two into silence, and he continues, “He saved us, and then she stabbed him.” The man frowns and turns Madara over. From a storage scroll, he pulls out an advanced-looking first aid kit and snaps “Show me the puncture wound and the senbon,” The senbon, yellow-green, and slightly longer than usual is offered up. He glances at it and pulls out what must be the right vial of antivenin from his kit and loads it into a syringe. With practiced ease, he administers the injection and seals away his supplies.
“I’m going to carry him back, I will be back for you shortly. Stay here, hide. If the other shinobi return, then do not engage them.” The man shunshins away, and Tobirama is left alone with three children and no idea where Madara has been taken, or if he will survive.
“But they’re dead,” Ren mutters, at a loss. She was wrong, Madara had probably killed only one of them, had been aiming only to incapacitate, not kill. He wonders at the size of them and how little they knew about the shinobi arts if they couldn’t even tell the living from the dead yet. He thinks that he remembers the children of the Yashogoro being more…precocious.
It quickly switches to alarm when they begin to discuss checking out the ‘bodies’ of the enemy shinobi to see if they can find out who they were. Fortunately, the man returns with three others and several snakes before the children can talk themselves into going back.
“Ren! Akurra! Keiko! What were you thinking,” The children are efficiently scolded, hugged, and ordered back home by one of the new young men, while the other men, a woman, and some of the snakes set off to deal with the enemy shinobi. Tobirama trails after the children and their caretaker, watching with interest as one of the larger snakes carefully inspects the children, hissing at length, sometimes spilling over into human speech as it scolds them. ‘Irressponssible younglingsss.’
From the speed with which the first Yashagoro had brought reinforcements, Tobirama had expected a short walk. Instead, it takes them nearly two hours to reach some more of the Yashagoro, and a system of caves. They split up then, a worried young woman calling out to the errant youngsters, and Tobirama decides to follow the man in the hope he would lead him to someone in charge, if only to make a report. He’s pleasantly surprised when he leads him straight to the infirmary where Madara lies on a pallet on the floor.
Tobirama is at his side instantly, observing his complexion, the faint flutter of a pulse in his throat, the pinched expression in his eyes.
“Koushi was right, the children were not injured. They’re with Ayashi now,” says the man.
An old woman, with greying hair and paler eyes than the others he’s seen thus far, answers, “That is a relief.”
“And…the stranger?” he asks, sitting down beside her.
“He will be fine as well, Kohaku. Ayashi diluted the venom before she gave it to Ren. Fortunately, that spared his life, and Koushi was quick with the antivenin.”
The man twitches, clearly having something else to say.
“He will be alright in a few hours, child.” That makes him relax a little.
The two of them sit in silence for a few minutes before the man, Kohaku, becomes restless again. When the old lady does not acknowledge it, he speaks out, “Grandmother. Surely someone else can watch the stranger? We could leave.”
“You may go. I do not have anything else to be doing, right now. And when my great-granddaughter nearly kills a Clan-head, I think I can wait at his side to offer him an apology.”
Kohaku looks like he’s bitten into a particularly acrid lemon. “Which clan is he?”
“Uchiha. This man is Uchiha Madara.”
From the expression on his face Tobirama reads horror, hatred, and disgust; it’s obvious that there was some sort of bad blood here. “He’s Uchiha Shinji’s nephew.”
“Indeed.”
“And we’re keeping him here?”
The first young man, the one they call Koushi, enters the room after a quick knock, without waiting for an answer. “Is he alive?” he asks, coming to sit so close to Tobirama that he has to shift closer to Madara’s head to stay out of him.
“He will be fine if he rests. Kiyoko looked him over and said you administered the antivenin in time.”
“Did you know that this person was Uchiha Madara, brother?” asks Kohaku. The newcomer stiffens. “I did not,” he says quietly. Unlike Kohaku, his expression remains blank and Tobirama finds that more troubling than the outright hatred.
He turns to the woman as though he hadn’t been interrupted, to say, “We picked up the shinobi who attacked the children, Grandmother. They seem to be professional child-stealers. We found…trophies.” The studied blankness makes Tobirama think that the trophies must have been hideous.
“Are they dead?” she asks calmly.
“No, we have four alive. One died of asphyxiation from a broken neck.” He doesn't sound like it had been a significant loss.
“After the Uchiha awakes, I should think I would like to have a word with them. Don’t kill them before then, please,” she says. The man nods to her and rises gracefully to his feet. He glances at his brother, then Madara, then leaves without a word.
“And there is our reason to be grateful that the Uchiha interfered,” the woman says, several long minutes later. Kohaku says nothing, and they sit beside Madara in silence, unknowing that Tobirama is sitting with them, doing the same.
It takes Mito more than a week to find a moment when Toka was free and to shore up enough of her courage to talk to her. It helped that Toka was more busy than usual, as the Senju the Sarutobi were most comfortable with, having known her longer. But she finally does find that courage and lets herself into Toka’s room after they were both done with their duties for the day.
“You seem better,” says Mito, stepping out onto Toka’s balcony. Toka is sitting cross-legged on the roof above her, and when shading her eyes doesn’t block out the evening sun enough for her to get a good look at her friend, she turns back around to look over the railing. The view here is pleasant, the balcony overlooks a small street. There’s no one on it now, but it still looks cheerful. It’s not hard to imagine children or couples strolling down it at the end of a long day.
“I had time,” answers Touka. They’re silent for several moments, then Toka says, “I heard you returned Madara’s gunbai to him.” She doesn’t sound angry, but it’s awful not to have the visual cues to confirm that, just in case.
“I did,” says Mito. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”
Toka jumps down lightly beside Mito. “Don’t look so wary, I’m not upset with you. Anymore.”
“Oh.” She swallows down the so you don’t hate me that she’s been desperate to ask.
“When I first heard about it, I was really angry,” Toka says quietly. She’s pointedly looking down so Mito only sees her profile, her fringe falling forward to obscure much of her face. “I wanted to feel betrayed so that I could hate you.”
Mito is twisting her left sleeve, in the absence of something else to fill her hands. She doesn’t want to interrupt Toka, but she desperately wants to apologize. To tell her that she hadn’t meant her actions as a betrayal, how could she betray someone so dear to her?
Toka continues, “But then I realized that what you did, that was probably why Hashirama was laughing that day when I got home. And I wanted to be angry at him too, I wanted to know how he could possibly forgive anyone after.” She drops her head lower, no longer looking at anything at all.
Her voice goes even softer. “But I liked it, Mito.” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I wanted to see him laugh. Hashirama is my little brother too, and I hated seeing him like that.” There are tears gathering in her eyes as she speaks. “He was laughing like he finally remembered how, and the only thing I could think of was that if Tobirama was. Was alive, that’s what he would have wanted.
“He always thought that Hashirama was the whole entire world. I mean, he saved Izuna for Hashirama, not for Madara.” She stops.
She looks up at Mito then, warm dark eyes filled with tears. “No. I want to say it’s because I know that it’s what Tobirama wanted but. That’s just an excuse. I was just so tired of being angry!” The last few words rush out and Toka starts crying in earnest. “And he’s right, Mito, the peace is good, it’s what we need and already things are so much better than they used to be. I just want him back!” and then she’s sobbing, loud and broken, the way she hadn’t at Tobirama’s funeral or any time since then. Mito gathers her into her arms, pulls her closer, and strokes the soft black hair as Toka cries into her shoulder.
“I want him back, it’s not fair,” She cries like the world is ending, sometimes goes too long without a breath and then she coughs and gasps before the next loud sob is torn out of her. Mito has never seen Toka like this. And she can do nothing except hold this dear person close, rest her chin on Toka’s head and make quiet, “Shh, it’s okay, it’ll all be okay, shh,” noises. Tears stream down her own cheeks because it feels like she’s lying; that nothing will ever be okay again.
“You’re okay Toka, it’s fine, shh,” she lies, wishing with every fiber of her being that it was true.